


National Anthem

by Shadsie



Series: National Anthem 'Verse [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Super Smash Brothers, The Legend of Zelda
Genre: Adult Humor, Blood, Character nicknames, Combat, Darkfic, Fire-forged alliances, Friendship, Gen, Hunger Games Hybrid, Illustrations, Mentor and student relationships, Multiple Charcter Deaths, One Illustration per Chapter, Substance Abuse, Survival, coarse language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:32:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadsie/pseuds/Shadsie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Super Smash Brothers annual tournament used to be a fun affair - combat without murder or lasting pain in which warriors from many worlds could test their skills, gaining friendships and glory. It was also wonderfully silly. That was before Ganondorf took over. </p><p>Sometime after the Melee' Tournament and before the upcomming Brawl, Ganondorf used unknown sorceries to seize control and rule the nation of Ninten.  He turned the tournaments into cruel games of survival filled with death in which only one chosen fighter comes out alive.   </p><p>Link Kokirin, the once Hero of Time, is a haunted veteran of the first "Brawl of Honor."  This year, he finds himself the mentor of his young successor, an innocent boy from New Hyrule. How can he teach an idealistic young Hero how to give up his life - or his soul?</p><p> </p><p>  <b>Updated with Full-Color Ink Illustrations!</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Are the Champions

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimers and Notes:** Super Smash Bros. and related characters belong to Nintendo. Some of the other concepts I am borrowing belong to Suzanne Collins. I give many apologies to the owners of both properties. Why am I doing this? Because the world is weird; that’s why. This story-concept is Smash Bros. in the *style* of The Hunger Games, but not directly a crossover. This is more of a hybrid, focusing on Smash Bros. characters. It's not a unique concept, but I've tried to put a unique spin on it. 
> 
> I apologize for any missed details or slight out of character moments for any Smash characters from games I have played very little of or not at all. I did do research (in fact, researching this fanfic lead me to buying "Kid Icarus: Uprising," which is a game that has made me very happy).
> 
> This story is complete and has been posted at that *other* fanfiction site as well as the Zelda Dungeon forums. 
> 
> And, yes, I realize how ridiculous this very concept is.

** **

 

**NATIONAL ANTHEM**

 

 

Metal sounds resounded in my ears, the noise that metal makes when it hits flesh.  I saw a sword in my hand dripping with green monster-blood.  This was familiar, a piece of my life as it once was.  Sword-song morphed into the hollow sound of an arrow cutting the air followed by a dull thump.  I pulled the shaft out of my target and watched the red blood of a human body glisten on the point. I knew whose blood it was and refused to look at his face.  After that, I saw the gleam of a guillotine-blade and heard the heavy noise of it coming down. 

 

I shot up in bed and pawed my neck.  There was thumping at my door. 

 

“Toki! Toki, time to rise and shine!”

 

I spat an obscure Old Hylian curse and I really meant it even though I knew she couldn’t understand it.  Peach really could have all those things done to her by an octorock and I wouldn’t care.  I reached for the half-full bottle of Chateau Romani on the dresser by my bed and rolled over sheets and blankets covered in my own sickness. 

 

Ah, yes… I must have passed out last night.  There are empty bottles with droplets of red potion in them everywhere, and of course what is left of the fine Chateau I was offered.  That year was a good year...

 

Why, no, I do not have a drinking problem.  It’s more like the drinking has a problem with me.   If I overindulged last night, it’s because I do at this time every year.  If you had my life, you wouldn’t judge me. Some of my fellows do much harder stuff.  I stay far away from the “rare candies” because I’m afraid the trip would be like my dreams.  “Milk” before bed has the pleasant dulling effect that I seek.

 

I manage to drag myself up and go to the sink to wash up and shave.  I pass by the shelf where a picture sits depicting the two of us – my brother and me.  One is a fresh-faced young man; the other is a long-dead child.  Both of us died much too young. 

 

I used to be a hero in a bygone age – “The Hero of Time,” they called me.  Nowadays, I don’t even go by my own name, half the time.  My colleagues have nicknamed me “Toki,” a name meaning “Time” in one of their languages. Officially, I am Link Kokirin.  It’s a bit unusual, but not the oddest name I’ve ever heard. 

 

“Toki!” I hear at the door again. 

 

“Keep your crown on, Sweetheart!” I shout as I pull on my dress-tunic. Our lovely liaison, Peach Toadstool.  Now that’s a stupid name.  She always had fluff for brains, even before the Brawls.  She’d been given a place in SmashCity and a cushy job, which she did with gusto every year.  Too bad her position had cost the woman her soul.  I cannot hate her, not really.  To be honest, I think Miss Peach is too stupid to ever be truly evil.  Oblivious… yeah, that describes her style best. 

 

“If you’re hung-over in there, I’m sending in someone with the wake-up juice!” 

 

I send the door flying open.  Peach lets out a short little scream and cowers.  Maybe it’s the circles under my eyes that scare her – or the death-glare.  I’ve been told that I have a mean death-glare. 

 

“Um,” Peach fidgets, “Are you ready to meet with the other Champions?  They’re all waiting in the Viewing Room – and they were on _time_ , I might add, _Toki_.”

 

“I ain’t a hero of that element anymore, darlin’,” I reply.  “We all ceased to be heroes the moment we let ourselves become slaves.”

 

“Oh, don’t let our great President hear you say that, Toki!” Peach gasped. 

 

“It’s not like I have much more to lose,” I pointed out as we walked down the halls of the hotel that has been rented out for the Champions.  “Besides, is the President going to be joining us this year?”

 

“No, but you should still watch your tongue!” 

 

We enter the Viewing Room – a grand ballroom with huge video screens set up on one wall and a banquet table in the center.  The selection of the next crop of fighters had not yet begun.  I make my way to the table, straight for some bread and jam as well as a shot of Goron Firewhiskey.  Yeah, the caterers knew I was coming.   I clap Mario on the back.  He and I go way back.  A good drinking-buddy, though the poison mushrooms are his mind-fogger of choice.  They’re mighty potent, but he keeps them under better control than I do my addictions.  

 

“How’s my favorite turd-herder?” I say. 

 

“How’s my favorite fairy-boy?” he laughs. 

 

Friendly insults are our way.  Mario used to be a plumber before he came into the fighting life.  I used to have a fairy as a friend as a child back in my own world, so his banter isn’t really an insult and, even as a jab at sexuality, that kind of thing isn’t even an issue among our group.  In fact, given the situation of the world, most of us are not interested in romance at all.  We all know, through bitter experience, to keep our attachments to a minimum. 

 

I spy Marth over in a corner, leaning up against a wall.  He and I sometimes talk about swords…

 

All of us are gathered here for a special reason.  We are veteran fighters.  The survivors. 

 

The Tournaments used to be a happy affair.  The various worlds that each of us is from used to be loosely connected and we used to gather here, in SmashCity, to fight for glory and honor and above all… fun.  It’s hard to believe now that years ago, we used to actually fight for fun.  Back then, the Tournaments were run by a pair of mysterious giant hands, with Master Hand overseeing it all.  They were wonderful fights, really – matches of two to four of us at a time, and amazingly silly.  We were given magically-enhanced food for quick energy and a variety of bizarre weapons.  There were safety systems on the arenas, so none of us were ever seriously hurt and if any of us took a “fatal” wound, we would be frozen into the form of a trophy, which Master Hand could bring back to life at a touch.  There were many protections and all who had lost a match would be there to congratulate the winner – or to pout… whatever we felt more inclined to do.

 

All that changed when Ganondorf took over. 

 

Sometime after the grand Melee’ Tournament, my adversary had used strange and powerful sorceries to seal away the Hands and to sunder our worlds.  They were all under his sway now, with a few areas even being divided.  There were two Hyrules, for instance, New Hyrule and Old Hyrule, neither of them the Hyrule which was home to me. 

 

Ganondorf, who called himself the President of this nation of Ninten, reformed in his image, entertained himself and the roaring crowds of SmashCity with a new kind of fighting Tournament – one of death.  He called these tournaments the Brawls of Honor.  All of the safety systems were turned off.  Instead of a series of small fights that built up to determine fighters’ places on the roster, all the chosen fighters were put into one arena and left for weeks to survive it out and to fight until one remained alive. 

 

We tried to rebel… at first… those of us who were there in the beginning… the Melee-veterans.  Our worlds were broken for it.  We were broken.  The people we’d loved were broken.  My world was destroyed.  These served as an example of Ganondorf’s power. Somewhere along the line, even the “best” of us, if you can call us that, decided that the Brawls were a better sacrifice than the alternatives. 

 

Fighters for any new Brawl were chosen at random from the populations of our various worlds.  Sometimes, two or three fighters were chosen from a given world, sometimes, only one.  The demographics were apparently kept that way to make it interesting.  One year, two from this world, and one from that, with no restrictions upon the random draw.  The Brawls were made up of adult warriors – veterans of the “story” of their world (for each of our worlds was loosely connected to a greater story, a world outside of the one of our current Ninten that we all knew about and were promised we might return to someday).  Just as easily and as often, children were forced to join the fray - even sapient animals. 

 

I see Pikachu sitting on a chair, wearing a paper party hat ironically.  He was the victor from the land of Kanto in the region populated by creatures known as pokemon. He’d been dismissed by everyone watching his Brawl, and, even today, other Champions didn’t think much of him, but I knew him well.  He was a tactical genius and an expert on electricity.  He talked in poke-speak, but if one was patient enough to learn a little bit of it, one could discover his formidable mind.  He’d become a Champion by utilizing the features of the arena he’d been placed in.  A simple spool of electricty-conducting wire that had been left in the area by the prep-team by mistake had become his clever trap.  His opponents had thought that he was scurrying around in a panic, a dumb mouse fleeing their traps when he’d been, in fact, laying one of his own.  I admired his intelligence, although I didn’t like to think what had happened to his fellow fighters.  Their deaths had been horrible.

 

Kirby… ugh. Seeing him across the room immediately sends me the other way.  I’m not the only one creeped out by the little pink puffball.  He has a deceptively cute, soft look, but he isn’t known to us as The Cannibal for nothing.  I still have nightmares from the time we watched his Brawl.  He’d engulf the other combatants in his gaping maw.  I’ve heard that he’d once used his appetite for heroic purposes.  I remember in the innocent Melee tournament how he used to suck someone into his mouth only to spit them back out, taking only certain skills as a copy-move.  In his “Brawl of Honor,” he’d suck in a person only to keep them inside, digesting them.  They’d digest quickly, too. In an instant, someone would become a meal for Kirby, inflating him to a huge size.  He’d resembled a python that had eaten a pig – just a huge lump in his belly – and within a few minutes, he’d deflate, that person gone.  He’d spat up one fighter, partially digested… gray and burned and twitching. 

 

My bread and jam almost came back up.

 

Cranky Kong rocks in a rocking chair.  He’s one of the old timers – he used to be known as Donkey Kong before passing the name on to succeeding generations.  There’s Falco, last year’s winner, a new Champion.  His victory was something of a foregone conclusion, due to his having been a military-man. Or bird.  He was an anthropomorphic bird of prey – and a space-fighter-pilot.  

 

Sauntering about the room like silk was the one we all call “The Princess,” or, more specifically, the “Princess of Darkness.”  She’d won the year before last – the Champion of Old Hyrule.  Tall, mysterious, and draped in long robes, she was Midna – a sorceress from the Twilight Realm, a portion of Old Hyrule that was magically cut off from its mainland.  She kept to herself and was known to us to be very fierce.  I wasn’t as reluctant to share space with her as I was with Kirby, as she seemed to have some honor.  What had spurred her to win her Brawl was the death of an ally she had made in the great ruined castle that had been her arena.  Red was a rare human chosen from Kanto – Pikachu’s world.  I’d been watching with Mario in one of SmashCity’s bars as she and the boy had bonded over animal-training, a shared interest.  It was only after he’d  been killed that she’d shown her ruthless side, systematically tracking down and slaughtering those that had killed him.  Her final opponent, Zant – a man from her very same world, hard borne the brunt of her rage.  She’d caused a sort of explosive reaction in his body after storing up her magic.  It was the strangest death I’d ever seen, and that’s saying something because I’ve killed some very bizarre monsters in my time that did not go quietly.    

 

I suppose I knew more about Midna, fact-wise, than most of my fellow champions.  I knew Mario pretty well, as a personal friend, but as far as the rest went, I never registered too much information about them. Their worlds were strange to me.  Midna, however, was of the Old Hyrule, which, supposedly – in its “story,” at least, was a land descended from my lost home.  It was rumored that she’d fallen in love with a person who was my successor in that world, or who was supposed to be.  He’d taken up my clothing-style and my sword-techniques.  I was supposed to have a successor in New Hyrule, as well; a young one who’d played his story-mode in honor of mine. 

 

The story-worlds… yes.  It was said that once the denizens of SmashCity were entertained to the full that we had a chance to return to our true homelands.  As it was, we all felt the “stories” in our bones, even as we were unable to live them.  I’d lived a few of my stories.  Mario had lived a few of his.  It seemed like us old-timers were lucky.  Some had not lived their stories yet – but lived with the ache that they existed for them to return to.  They were worlds that lived in the best of our dreams.  SmashCity was like a nightmare that we were all trying desperately to wake up from.

 

The national anthem plays and we turn our attentions to the great screens. 

 

“Ah, it looks like they’re a’ doing my world first this year,” Mario comments from his place beside me.  We see an aerial shot of a great plaza… Delfino, I think it was, where many people in mushroom-hats and various odd creatures mill about.  Announcer Lakitu putts about on his cloud.  He’d been in charge of selections from the MushroomKingdom last year.  He pulls a random slip of paper from his cloud.

 

My friend has gone white from anticipation.  He holds his hat in his hands, wadding it up, wringing it like a towel.  Mario was desperately afraid that one of these Tournaments would see a drawing up of his younger brother.  Luigi was a capable fighter, but something of a gentle soul.  Ever since the Tournaments had turned deadly, Mario had developed a protective big-brother instinct that bordered on paranoia. 

 

I cannot say I blame him.  I lost my own brother.  It leaves a hole in you. 

 

The name of the latest victim of Ganondorf’s games was read.

 

“Bowser Miyahon.” 

 

It was announced that he was the only denizen of the former MushroomKingdom that was to be chosen for this Brawl of Honor.  Mario breathes a sigh of relief.

 

“He’s strong,” I say, “He’ll have a good shot of making it through.”

 

“I only care if I can get him to fight with some honor,” my friend states, putting his hat back on.  “I don’ta know with that one.”

 

“You’ll know a feeling I have not… having someone you mentored win.” 

 

“You have many strong people in your kingdom,” Mario tries to assure me.  “The people of the sea and the people of the rails.”

 

“I think I’ll just tell mine to run and hide,” I sigh. 

 

“Not fitting for the avatar of courage,” Mario remarks.  What he says is true, but I don’t let it sting.  I’d seen too many of “mine” bite it.  Either they were underfed, or out of luck, or carried too much honor and ended up dying stupidly rather than do what they thought was wrong.  High-falutin’ morals don’t carry you very far in a Brawl.  Last year was probably the worst.  I’d taught a strong young lady pirate by the name of Aviel how to get food down out of trees by rolling into them.  She’d employed this to great effect until she’d hit a tree with a bee’s nest.  By the time she was retrieved, she looked more like a pile of potatoes than the Gerudo she’d once been.  The year before that, I’d lucked into a pair of Sages – Fado and Laruto.  Instead of listening to my advice, they’d just made a suicide pact and killed each other as soon as they’d hit the arena because they’d decided to die together than be forced to murder people.  The scared connections and holy magic of Sages mean nothing when they’re pacifists.

 

Another screen, another world and a different announcer… this time a cold, robotic voice…

 

“Samus Aran.” 

 

And another…

 

A decidedly reptilian hiss…

 

“Donkey and Diddy of the Kong Clan…”

 

I watch Midna sitting on the edge of her chair when the screen for Old Hyrule comes up.  She nurses a glass of wine.  Her attention is rapt. 

 

“Link d’ Ordon!” 

 

Midna’s head sinks and she closes her eyes.  A single tear falls like a diamond.  I can’t help but feel sorry for her.  She’s devastated.  I take a long look at the young man on the screen.  He’s dressed very much like me, save that the color of his tunic and hat are duller, a more subdued green to my Kelly-hue.  His eyes are striking… even a bit disturbing.  He looks absolutely fierce.  He stands in the shadows until he is brought before the camera.  He looks like a darker and less hung-over version of what I saw in the mirror every morning.  The young man strikes me as rather beast-like… like he’d torn out a few throats in his day. 

 

“Shiek Nohansen!”

 

Ah, so he’s getting a partner.  I feel… nostalgic.  This “Shiek” person is a bit different than another I had known by that name.  This one hadn’t been able to bind her chest nearly as well; then again, I do not know if androgyny was the look this one was going for. 

 

Everyone startles when the glass in Midna’s hand shatters.  With a swish of her robes, she gets up and runs out of the room, back toward the hotel suites. 

 

“Wait! Miss Midna! This isn’t protocol!” Peach shouts after her, chasing her down. 

 

More names were read.  Don’t ask me to keep track of them all.  My head’s swimming with the last shot of whiskey I took. 

 

Lemme see… “Pit Icarus,” I think that’s one of the kids… “Bulbasaur,” one of the pokemon… “Charizard,” another pokemon… I think someone named “Meta Knight” from Kirby’s world was called… Falco is getting his old friend Fox to train…

 

The last screen was trained on New Hyrule.  People involved in the cull were gathered at island called Windfall.  It’s not actually too far from the place I’m allowed to live in during the off-season, Papachuia Village. 

 

After I hear the name that was called and see the camera trained on whom it belongs to, I just can’t believe it.  I’ve always wanted to rip Ganondorf’s spine out, but at that moment, more than ever.  His sleazy announcer, Mr. Ghirahim even mocks her in a sing-song voice. 

 

“Aryll Outsetter.” 

 

A little girl.  A tiny little girl.  She can’t be more than eight years old!

 

Before I toss my glass at the screen in frustration, a little boy wearing green with a wooden sword on his belt comes running up, panting and puffing. 

 

“Don’t take my sister!” the child cries.  He can’t be more than twelve years old.  He puts himself between the announcer and his sister and raises his little sword.  “You aren’t taking her!”

 

“So… a little hero,” Ghirahim drawls, “Do you mean to take her place?  It is the only way.” 

 

“Yes! Yes I will!” the kid shouts for all to hear. 

 

“Noooo!” little Aryll cries.  “No, Big-Brother, no!” She clings to him. He hugs her tight and then turns around, glaring into the camera.

 

His eyes are big, round and innocent, yet somehow fiercer than those of my other counterpart.  Yes, this one is definitely my successor in New Hyrule. 

 

“What is your name, child?” the announcer asks. 

 

“Link Outsetter.” 

 

The boy is presented to the crowd with mixed reactions.  Mostly, the island is filled with cries of grief. 

 

I don’t have my sword on me.  If I did, I’d cut the screen in half.  The kid has guts.  Guts got me through some impossible things.  However, I fear that given the lineup that I’d seen, that his will be quickly spilled. 

 

The screen cuts out with another play of the national anthem.  I need another freakin’ drink.  

 

 

 


	2. A Gathering of Sacrifices

** **

**NATIONAL ANTHEM**

 

**Chapter 2**

 

 

Will the kid stop starin’ at me?  All slack-jawed and bright-eyed, I can’t stand it!  Picked him up on the Grand Spirit Train thru New Hyrule today an’ th’ passenger-car suddenly got crowded.  Just him and me and Miss Peachy-keen.  I had my breakfast, cornflakes an’ bourbon, ‘cause it’s th’ only way I canna stand to see his face. 

 

I can’t stand it.  Dead kid keeps lookin’ at me like I can save ‘im.  Peach shoves some coffee in my face. Do ya think I wanna be sober, woman?  Didn’t get myself fortified jus’ to throw it away.  I’ve got a corpse starin’ at me.  You do, too, but you don’t care.  You never cared.  At least the coffee’s nice n’ black, ain’t fru-frued up. 

 

“Mr. Toki?” the dead boy asks.

 

“Don’t call me that,” I spit back. I sit down low in my seat across… lettin’ my shoulders ease up.  I’d like to go back to my bunk, but Miss Twinkle-pink won’t let me.  Gotta meet with my charge an’ all that. 

 

“Miss Peach says everyone calls you Toki.”

 

“You ain’t earned the right to call me that.” 

 

“Then, what do I call you?” 

 

“You can call me Link,” I reply.

 

“That’s my name,” the kid pouted. Damn.  That lip. 

 

“I can call you the Hero of Time…”

 

I leap over the table and grab the smartass kid by the collar.  “Don’t you ever call me that!” I snarl.  “I ain’t no Din-damn hero, not anymore!” 

 

“B-but…” the kid pathetically quivers, “Where I come from, we know all about you! The story of your world is connected to ours.  It’s why I’m dressed like you… to honor you.” 

 

I drop the kid and grumble.  “I ain’t got honor, kid.  That’s somethin’ ya gotta learn in life. Yer heroes ‘ill disappoint ya.”  I take another swig of my cooling coffee. It’s clearing my head up a bit but I still feel pleasantly foggy. 

 

“You’re supposed to train me for the Brawl, Mr…. Mr..?”

 

“Kokirin.  You can call me Mr. Kokirin.  And I’m afraid I don’t got much to teach.  Stay alive, kid, is all I can say.  Stay alive as long as ya can.” 

 

“That’s not much help,” the boy says, pouting and smoothing out his tunic. 

 

“Listen, kiddo… my advice to you is to make the most of the week you have left here before you enter the Brawl.”

 

“So you aren’t even going to try to help me to survive.  Just great.” 

 

“Yer a fan-favorite right now, Tiny – what with how you helped out your sister.  My buddy, Mario really likes ya.  I think he wants you to win over his own guy.  But you don’t stand a chance.” 

 

“I am good with a sword.” 

 

“It don’t matter, kid.  Not with the lineup this time.  Bowser is a giant dragon… so are the Pokemon…”

 

“I have not gone through the story-mode of my world as I live here,” the kid replies, “but I feel it in my code.  The me that is in the story-world has fought giant creatures and stuck a sword through Ganondorf’s fat head!” 

 

I laugh.  I couldn’t help but laugh and slap my knee so hard I tip over my coffee and spill half of it all over the table.  Peach has steam comin’ out her ears. She turns bright red, like Mario’s hat! 

 

I never knew what he saw in her.  They used to be together before the world turned to crap.  There were rumors that she saw Bowser on the side to takin’ Mario’s mustache-rides.  Yeah, she always struck me as a bit kinky… no one can be as straight-laced as her without a little wildness in the closet. 

 

“Oh, don’t we all wish we could do that!” I huff.  Laughing has gotten me breathless. Peach calls me a “hyena,” whatever that is…. Never seen one in Hyrule.  Oh, it’s kinda like Darknut with his helmet off? You’ve really seen one, kid? 

 

“In my story-mode, I know I sliced up his piggy-face! But we all know the story-modes ain’t true.”  I say.  “Ain’t true to life.  We’re here and under his thumb.  Try to fight ‘im and it’s not just you on the choppin’ block, it’s everyone you know and love.” 

 

I feel suddenly sick.  A memory burbles up in my mind like the sickness in my belly of Saria… how she died… how I was made to watch.  I shake my head and bite the inside of my cheek. 

 

“I am a warrior!” the dead kid insists. 

 

“So’s Fox,” I counter.  “So’s that merc with the weird blue hair.  Oh, and Samus.  I didn’t think she’d ever be selected for a Brawl of Honor!  I knew her in the early fighting days, back in Melee’ when the fights were pussy-foot.  If she’s anything like she was back then – with the safety-stuff turned off – she’s going to cut a swath through the Brawl like the fuckin’ Grim Reaper!”

 

“Such atrocious language!” Peach whines. 

 

“Loosen up, Sweetheart!” I say.  “Have a drink with me!” 

 

“Not on your life!”

 

“It ain’t my life on the line, it’s the kid’s.” 

 

Little Link scowls.  Then he gets this stupid hopeful look, lookin’ back up at me.  “She’ll be powered-down, right?” he asks. 

 

“Come again?”

 

“She’ll be de-powered.  I heard that in the Brawls, if anyone’s got technology or powers that are too much of an advantage, they get powered-down before they’re sent to fight.”

 

“That is true, kid,” I say, “but it still might not help ya.” 

 

I remember past years… Midna had a wealth of magic that was a natural trait of her people, enhanced by the helmet of Fused Shadows.  She was not allowed to take the Fused Shadows into the Brawl.  Her natural magical abilities had been “clipped” by a system that had been set up that was not unlike the old tournaments’ safety-system.  She had to power up her magic abilities through eating and rest to make them significantly damaging.  Similar measures had been taken last year for Falco’s firearms.  Power had to be conserved and guns were not one-hit lethal unless the bolts hit very specific parts of the body.  Falco had taken to frying brains with eye-shots.  He was scary-good at it.

 

I notice that I’m perking up.  The fog of my good buzz is going away.  I want it back. I also notice that I have to take a wicked piss.  I let myself up to do just that, being sure to tell Peach that I have to “take a wicked piss” so I can see the look on her face.  I watch some premium stuff go down the drain, slightly used.  The only thing good about these Brawls is the catering for us Champions.  Without it, I might’ve asked Fi to let me impale myself on her quite some time ago… It seems I keep hangin’ on for the hope that one of my people will win, or that someone will make some kinda change happen.  I want to stab Ganondorf in the head.  It’s the dream that keeps me awake.  I guess I’ve got the fool’s hope that it’ll happen, and I need to get as many of us to that place as I can. 

 

Oh, Fi… that reminds me… I need to talk to Tiny about weapons.  Fi… yeah, that’s my sword that I tend to leave at home these days.  I ain’t fit to wield her anymore.  She’s known as the Master Sword, but she has a soul and a name that few folks know.  It’s said she once could speak and had a human shape to her soul, but she rests now, awakening partially only to the touch of heroes.  She’s comatose, but still won’t let me hurt myself with her.  I’ve tried. The little kid showed me his own world’s version of Fi when he boarded the train.  I could sense her, bright and fierce.  The Master Sword has always been a holy weapon in all of its forms, but weapons are inherently violent things.  It is their definition. 

 

“Kid,” I say, sitting down again, “Ya decided what weapon you want in the Stage?” 

 

“I said I was handy with a sword,” the kid replies.  “I wouldn’t have brought it if I wasn’t going to rely on it.  Didn’t you use a sword?”

 

“Nope,” I say, gaining a look – the kid’s priceless.  “I made my way with a bow and arrow.  I wasn’t allowed all of the magic spells I knew for arrows, but I had an unlimited quiver… the arena-guys kept dropping bundles of arrows for me in random places.  They’ll help you, sometimes… the prep-guys.  It depends upon the favor of the crowds.” 

 

“Is a bow and arrow better?” 

 

“Not really.  You go with what you think you can best use.  There’s also going to be a lotta random weapons scattered around for ya’ll to find.  Who knows? You might be able to blow a de-powered Samus in clunky armor sky-high with a random bob-omb you find in a bush.” 

 

“Do you think that will happen, Mr. Kokirin?”

 

“Not a chance, kid.” 

 

“But you just said…” 

 

“I say a lot of things, kid.  My advice to you is to say your prayers and enjoy the time ya got left.” 

 

“I have to have some chance…” 

 

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll be the first to fall,” I say, trying to be encouraging.  I know I’m not.  “You’ve got spirit and an edge of violence to ya.  You remember the two Sages that went to the Brawls, don’t ya?”

 

“Fado and Laruto,” he says respectfully.  “OutsetIsland had hopes for them. They were really powerful…”

 

“Because they were Sages, right?”

 

“Yeah…” 

 

“They were also pacifists.  That’s why they died.  They weren’t willin’ to be killin’.”

 

“They killed each other.”

 

“Do you remember what President Ganondorf had done after that?”

 

“Their temples were destroyed and their successors… I don’t even want to think about it!  Makar and Medli were…my friends…They are my friends…”  

 

“There are ways of comittin’ suicide in the Stages that make it look like an accident, that don’t put on a big show and don’t look defiant.  I can share tips for that, if you want.” 

 

“I’d rather fight it out and see how long I can survive… even if you don’t believe in me.” 

 

“You’re brave, kid.  I really wish you could grow up to be the hero that were meant to be.” 

 

“Can you teach me how to… be honorable?” he asks. 

 

“I told you I ain’t got none a that honor-shit.” 

 

“I’m sure you did at some point…since you are the Hero of T-”

 

He backs off when he sees my face. I can feel my skin growing hot as I grind my teeth.  Shut up, kid! Smart kid.

 

The kid stares at me… eyes like steel.  “Can you show me how to kill cleanly?” he asks.  “I want to know how to make an opponent not-suffer.  I know that people – and Brawlers – are different than monsters. They feel things.  I want to kill without pain.” 

 

“There ain’t no killin’ without pain, kid. Life is pain and death itself is pain.”

 

“There’s a woman named Rose on my island,” the kid begins.  He wants to tell me a story… great.  “She raises pigs.  She feeds them to her family.  She clubs them in the head before she sticks their throats and puts them on the butcher-hook so they don’t feel themselves dying.  I think people are at least as worthy as pigs of getting clean deaths.” 

 

“People ain’t as worthy as you think, and they’ll fight death like cuccoos do.” 

 

“I want to try to survive… for the sake of my Grandma and my sister.” 

 

“I can show you how to make it quick and clean,” I say.  “And you’ll learn even better in the training arena.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the train arrives in SmashCity, Peach and I take the kid for a little tour of some of the main attractions.  We’re allowed to do this…some garbage about how Ganondorf is a gracious master of the world who will allow the dying a chance to indulge in luxuries and to see the glory of the central city under his rule. 

 

Stopping at the Statue of Ganondorf is a must.  Both the kid and I spit on its feet.  It makes some of the city guardsmen angry, but I show them my Brawl Champion’s pass and Link’s “Victim” pass and we’re left to our revelry. 

 

Even when I drop my trousers and take a wicked piss.  Oh, Peach, I love the faces you make!  Don’t get your crown in a crumple!  There’s nothing Ganondorf can do to me that he hasn’t already done and he knows it!  Besides, it’s just a statue.  And the kid didn’t do a damn thing.  The citizens of the city would be against him if Ganondorf had anything done to Link’s little sister just because I have a “spastic bladder.”  Cranky Kong got away with flinging a lot worse at it once.  It’s a very ugly statue.

 

Maybe the President lets some of us vent at the chunk of stone simply because he knows we are powerless to go after the real thing.  Our futile anger must amuse his sick ass. 

 

After our city-going escapades, we enter the hotel where were are to be put up and the training area.  To my surprise, I see Samus out of that big armored suit I always saw her wear. She’s in some kind of a form-fitting jumpsuit.  Down boy! Down!  I know it’s her because I’ve seen her without her helmet a few times.  She is talking to, of all people, Pikachu.  The damn rat hops up into her arms, like he’s some kinda pet.  Is he mentoring her?  He’s supposed to be mentoring his fellow Pokemon.  She cuddles him like a Farore-damned cat for a few minutes before setting him down and heading to a target-range. 

 

Pikachu pads at my feet. 

 

“What’s the big idea?” I ask the rodent. 

 

“Pika-pika-pi!” he replies.  I’ll be translating the rest of the poke-speak from here for those of you who’ve joined me inside my head for the time being.  Some drunks get pink elephants – I get readers. 

 

“Yeah!” I say, “Why are you getting all cozy with her? Shouldn’t you be teaching Charizard and Bulbasaur how not to die?” 

 

“Relax, Fairy-Boy, I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says confidently.  “Miss Samus has… shall we say… a way with animals.  She also has a way with energy.  What we have to say to one another is our business and our business alone.” 

 

“You’re saying that she can talk to you and understand you like I can?” 

 

“That and more, my friend.” 

 

I shiver.  “Interspecies romances rarely turn out well,” I spit.

 

“Who said that our relationship was a romance?” the yellow rat says, licking one paw casually.   

 

“You know better than I can that even de-powered, she’s gonna hold her own,” I point out.  Do you remember what we called her in the old days? Genocide-Samus.  Thinks nothin’ of blowing up planets in her own universe.  Do you think she’ll show an ounce of mercy to my kid or to your creatures?” 

 

Pikachu licks his other paw and smooths it over the fur on his head.  “Mercy and judgment are not for me to say,” he says in the most insufferably intellectual tone he could muster.  Yes, he can muster those – for those of us who understand his language.  Like I’ve said before, he is an overlooked genius.  “I’ll leave you with this, Toki.  The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry… that is when the best-laid plans of mice and women may just have a shot.  Also, you seem to be more sober than usual today.  Worked off your ‘breakfast?’  I like it when you’re sober, Toki. You should keep it up.” 

 

The rat bounds away, over to what I think is a sleeping Bulbasuar.  Yep, he’s movin’… that’s a Bulbasuar.  For a minute I thought it was a big pile of laundry. 

 

I find my kid.  He ran off somewhere in this gym to check out the various weapons on the walls.  I see him talking to that angel-kid.  Hoo boy, is that one gonna get slaughtered.  They say he’s the general of an army, but I don’t believe it.  Too cute, too young, too damn innocent-looking.  Little Link comes back over to me. 

 

“There sure are a lot of interesting people here, Mr. Kokirin.”

 

“Yep.  You aren’t put out that in a week about half of them will be trying to kill you?”

 

“You said to enjoy the week while I could,” he replies.  “And I’ve always enjoyed making new friends.” 

 

“A spunky strategy…” I muse, “Get everyone to like you and they won’t be too quick to kill you, is that it?”

 

“Nope.  I just want to know the dead before they become dead. I think I owe them that.”

 

I look to a shadowed area of the room we’re in and see the tell-tale subtle glow of cyan lines and symbols belonging to a specific set of robes. Midna stands talking to one of her charges – the one who corresponds to me and the kid.  How many Links are there in the world, anyway?  We’re less like a person and more like a race…  Such is the way the Goddesses made the Hyrules, I suppose.  I wonder what an army of us going after Ganondorf would be like… There’s an idea I ought to bring up when the cameras aren’t watching. 

 

Midna touches the young man’s shoulder.  Some strange magic swirls about him.  In about a minute, what is standing before the Princess of Darkness isn’t Link d’ Ordon, but a shaggy, dark-furred wolf with an impressive mane. 

 

Before I can grab a sword off the wall to defend my charge, the wolf leaps towards us and has little Link pinned.  The beast is snarling and drooling all over the front of his tunic.  The beast makes a snap at his throat, stopping short. 

 

“Link!” Midna cries, snapping her fingers.  The wolf immediately gets off of Tiny.  I help him up and offer my arms out for a hug.  The boy refuses, dusting off his tunic nonchalantly and glaring daggers at Midna, standing before us, and the wolf, sitting at her feet. 

 

“He put up a poor defense,” Midna comments.  “He has a sword and shield on his back, he should have whipped them out.  Haven’t you fought monsters, little boy?” 

 

“It’s no fair to catch me off guard!” Little Link shouts. 

 

“Everything is fair in the Brawl of Honor,” Midna says, inspecting the fingernails of one hand.  “You’ve just shown yourself to be an easy mark.  I’m afraid that my wolf now thinks of you as food.” 

 

The wolf glares.  Midna pets his mane and the black magic swirls about him again.  He becomes a man and stands tall.  He keeps the vicious animal-glare.

 

Oh, holy Naryu!  Is he still drooling? Freak…  

 

“Will he be allowed to do that in the Stage?” I ask. 

 

“Of course,” Midna laughs.  “You know the rules.  The warriors are allowed each one weapon to bring into the Stage and one personal token.  His weapon is the Master Sword, which cleaves light from darkness.  His token is a little gift from my world that enables his body’s transformation.  Utilizing the two, he can go back and forth at will.  I think the Brawl will be quite easy for him, seeing as the Stage this year is supposed to be an Old Hyrulean forest.”

 

“What about Shiek?” I ask. 

 

“What about her?”

 

“It seems that you’re putting all your efforts behind one dog on the track.  That seems a little unfair.” 

 

“We all love a winner,” Midna says with a smile drawn of night. 

 

Meanwhile, Link d’ Ordon is giving my Link Outsetter what I can only describe as a “slasher smile.” 

 

“You know,” he says slowly, “I was always a little jealous of your world.  I was born and raised in dust. 

 

He leans down to one knee and places a finger beneath Tiny’s chin.  For his part, my boy smiles, like he is trying to diffuse the situation. 

 

“I was born and raised in dust,” the Ordonian continues.  “Colors dull, suffused with gentle light, a world of strength and beasts.  I’ve seen New Hyrule… its colors – whimsical waves dancing brightly, colors to dazzle the eyes.  Your world was one with lighthearted music on the air all the time, wasn’t it?    I’ve long wished I could be a part of that world.  Alas, I am of dust and beasts.” 

 

He takes his hand away with a flick and just as smoothly, brings the sword off his back and braces its edge against my kid’s neck!!!

 

I’m about to tackle the punk and kick has ass as he jumps away, sheathing his blade.  He smiles at Tiny.  “I wish I was a part of your world, kid,” He says, “but that won’t stop me from comin’ for your throat!” 

 

Thankfully, he wanders along after Midna, leaving us in peace. 

 

“Do you want to go to our hotel room now,” I ask the boy. 

 

“Y-yes,” he pants. 

 

I look down gently at him as we walk through the halls.  “There is a chance you may win and go back home to your sister.” 

 

“How?  You kept saying that I should just prepare to die…” 

 

“There are many ways a Brawl can go,” I answer.  “There are actually ways for a little guy to win, especially a brave little guy.”

 

“I think I like you better when you’re like how you are now, Mr. Kokirin.”

 

“I think I’ll keep the Chateau Romani on the shelf for tonight.  I think tonight is a night for storytelling.  I’ll tell you of my Brawl, my Stage.  It may help you.”

 

He nods.  “If you really want to, Mr. Kokirin.” 

 

“Call me Toki.”   


	3. My Brother's Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I've not played every game in Nintendo's library and thus fear getting some characters amiss, this chapter features a mild bit of purposeful out-of-character in regards to the stresses of being forced into a deadly survival game. 
> 
> Apologies go out to fans of Roy, Dr. Mario and Mewtwo in particular.

** **

 

**NATIONAL ANTHEM**

**Chapter 3**

 

 

 

**The First Brawl of Honor**

 

We were hand-selected for the first of the Brawls and we had no choice.  It was either fight for survival or we watch our worlds go into the dark.  Master Hand was presented to us in chains – his fingers shackled together, bloody wounds staining the white of his glove…  There was nothing that he could do to save us.  Just to give us an example of his power, Ganondorf sent a few of Ninten’s outer worlds and neighboring territories into oblivion.  We saw, we mourned, we feared, and so we fought. 

 

I had not long ago returned from one of those worlds… I watched as Termina became terminal… after I had worked so hard to prevent its demise. 

 

I was very young when I was selected for the Brawl.  Do you see this picture, boy? Yes, I’m actually the kid in it.  You could say that I was both a child and a man back then, and that I was beside myself.  My older brother is actually a time-displaced version of me.  Don’t call me a hero, please.  I already told you to stop that.  Yes, you know the legend of the Hero of Time.  The two of us, when we were one person, slept for seven years.  After the quest, I was sent back in time to my child form, in order to re-gain my lost years and be given back my life. 

 

It didn’t actually work out that way.  I mean… how do you regain innocence once it is lost?  I couldn’t go back home, to the forest.  I was raised by a tree, you know. Did you know that, kid?  I’d lived among immortal forest-children, but knew I was destined to grow up, so I couldn’t live there anymore.  I wandered a bit and sought out a lost friend… that’s how I wound up in the land of Termina, where I ended up on another quest and in lots of battles.  When I returned, that was when I was drafted into the Melee’ Tournament to come fight fun battles alongside an adult version of myself drawn outside of Time. 

 

It was strange… I mean, I was technically older than my adult incarnation.  We were both kind of a mix of adult and child.  We got along.  We soon became something of “separate souls,” developing along our own paths in life in our split-ness.  We took on the roles of brothers.  “Old Link” as I liked to call him in teasing, became protective of me outside the tournament fights.  He was a good big brother – everything you could want in one, kind, strong, funny…

 

I was definitely the weaker between us.  I had such a little body.  Younger than yours, kid.  I had to rely on my brains to get through fights, because I didn’t have the brawn.  I knew how strong Old Link was, because, at some point in the past, I’d been him – or at least had his body.  He was a favorite of the female fans of the Melee’ tournament.  You wouldn’t really guess from me.  I’ve grown into those natural heroic looks, but I’ve let myself go a great deal, gotten scruffier, hit the Chateau Romani and Kakariko Vodka pretty hard…

 

Look at me kid… gone all sober for your sake, so I can tell you my story and give you warnings.  Your Stage won’t be like mine, though.  They say you’re getting an Old Hyrule forest.  That should be an advantage for you.  I don’t care that you’re an island child and more familiar with the sea… a forest should still be pretty natural.  My Brawl took place in the jungle… deep in the Jungle Japes.  It was steamy and hot… lots of dangerous, swift-moving waters… enormous insects…

 

Yes, my big brother and I were selected for the new and more dangerous game together.  We’d watched Termina vanish.  We’d watched the scouring of other worlds that we never got to know. We weren’t going to let the same happen to Hyrule.  Link and I thought that maybe we could come up with a plan to rebel from within, to get out of the Stage somehow and storm the city.  We were counting upon the others to join us, after all we knew the people we were being thrown into the deadly Brawl with.  We thought we could trust them to listen to reason, to form a secret plan together rather than to obey Ganondorf’s whims and the blood-thirst of the crowds.  We were wrong.  We couldn’t trust them – not a one of them.  Those that could have helped were only interested in obeying the rules to stay alive… We couldn’t blame them… they feared for their respective universes, not just their own lives.  The one being we found who could be counted on to be on our side was too weak, far too weak. 

 

There was nothing for us to do but to enter the Stage.  We had no mentoring.  The only training we had was what we’d taught ourselves during the non-lethal fights and in our own worlds.  Link and I both had formidable survival skills.   We, of course, allied with each other immediately.  We tried not to think about the inevitable outcome: If the two of us survived to the end of the matter, one of us would have to kill the other.  I bet on Link surviving.  I thought that, given my little body that I would be among the first to fall.  I had speed and agility on my side, but not much else.  Someone would take me out for sure, or one of the dangers of the jungle would claim me.  Link, for his part, didn’t seem to think about this at all.  He wanted to protect me.  I think he might have been planning to die in a battle with the final opponent.  I could guess what was on his mind, because, you know, at one point, we’d shared it.  When we made camp, he talked about slow-bleeding wounds and other kinds of things that would kill a person in a slightly delayed fashion.  He wouldn’t have spoken of things like that unless he was planning on fatally wounding someone in a last-ditch… just the kind of strategy that would keep me alive, provided I stayed to the sidelines, waiting for nature to take its course.

 

The truth of the matter was that he didn’t want to kill any of his friends and neither did I.  We kind of hung back in the thick of the jungle, avoiding the others.  Some Koopa Troopas were the first to fall as I recall.  It was announced over loudspeaker over the entire arena; “This Game’s First Failure Is!” – Yeah, kid, I’m sure you’re familiar with it… having been forced to watch the televised version of the Brawls back in your home on Outset. 

 

Your Grandmother cries a lot when she sees them?  Aw… It’s just sick that Ganondorf enforces the broadcast and the watching of it.  I still don’t think you have much of a chance, but I’m going to do what I can to see you through so maybe you can stick a sword through his fat head.  You might just be able to do someday what I’ve failed at.  For your Grandma. 

 

I met Pichu when she was shuffling around in a bush.  I don’t know why the poor creature was drafted for the first Brawl.  Pichu was a pokemon, but even among a race of powerful fighting creatures, an infant is no match for anything.  Her shocks were more cute than painful – and she’d hurt herself with them for cryin’ out loud! 

 

I don’t even think the little mouse knew what was going on.  I’d gone over to her hiding-bush looking to pick some berries for food and she popped out and didn’t try to attack me or anything.  She didn’t even try to bite or scratch.  She seemed to recognize me as a friend and like a puppy that knows you… She sniffed and licked my hand. 

 

I brought her back to where Big Brother and I were camped.  Link didn’t like the idea, but I decided that I was going to protect her for as long as I could.  I decided that it would be kind of funny if she’d won because we were protecting her.  She was the first to fall in the regular, non-lethal tournament. 

 

Weapons? Yeah… Big Link had his sword, of course.  His sword and his shield.  You’re allowed to carry a shield in – it doesn’t count as an extra weapon or a token.  It’s considered a part of your sword if you’re a sword-and-shield fighter.  I opted to leave my sword and shield behind for the sake of a bow and arrows.  I was allowed a fire spell on my arrows, but that’s it.  No ice, no holy light… I’d used those before… I was only allowed a low-burning fire.  It made making campfires very easy.  I’d set the spell to one of my arrows and use it like a lighter to ignite the kindling.  We had to be very careful with our fires.  A fire can make you visible to your enemies, especially at night.  Link had the great idea of setting “false fires” around the jungle before setting our own, that way, the smoke would distract anyone who was hunting us just long enough for us to get warm and to cook some fish from the river.  We’d set up piles of campfire-wood, then, using my keen eyes, I’d light the things from afar with my arrows… so as to already be out of the area should anyone hunting us find the fire right away. 

 

Yeah, the jungle could actually get cold… especially when it rained.  It was hard to keep the fires lit, then, too.  We’d collect rainwater in big, broad leaves.  We didn’t trust the stuff from the river.  The fish? We improvised equipment… nets from woven leaf-fibers, or Big Brother would hop around rocks where the waters were still, using his eyes to sight fish and stab them with the tip of his sword.  He passed that sword onto me, you know.  I don’t think Ganondorf feared it after what we went through.  The Master Sword in its normal state can only be wielded by pure persons… heroes.  You will give that up in the Brawl, kiddo.  There is no heroism there.  You may not be able to wield your version after all is said and done… if you survive. 

 

Ah, we talked and joked about many things around our constantly shifting campsites.  We remembered our Hyrule and how there used to be this awesome little fishing hole run by a guy in a stupid hat that if one timed one’s throw of a fishing lure just right, one could capture.  Oh, the two of us, when we were one and the same, were nice and let the guy have his hat back – after we laughed at him, of course.  Good times, good times.  There were some moments of the Brawl when I actually forgot that we were in a big, deadly game.  I don’t know how many days passed.  I stopped keeping track of them.  We slept when we felt safe.  Big Brother would let me curl up against his chest.  Sometimes Pichu would curl up with us, other times; she would keep alert around the campsite.  We were constantly on the move...

 

I think everyone wanted a shot at killing the Hero of Time – by this I mean my brother.  He was one of the high-ranking fighters on the roster.  His “wait-it-out” pacifist-act wasn’t popular.  We had to dodge many traps set for us within the Stage by the crew that was maintaining the Stage.  An overabundance of rain caused a landslide that Big Link and I were just able to outrun, Pichu carried on his arm.  A fire sprang up in another, drier part of the jungle, set off by a bomb that was one of the hidden weapons randomly scattered for us to use.  It had been set off on purpose by some unseen hand.  We had to dodge proximity-mines.  The river rapids almost swept us both away when we were trying to find a way to cross it. 

 

We knew from the announcements that the river had killed the one we called the Flatlander – Gamen Watch, I think that’s what his name was.  He was pretty well doomed in a three-dimensional world. 

 

As the announcements came and other fighters fell, I wondered just how long we could last.  I knew I was holding Link back.  He wouldn’t be “hiding” from the dangers as he was if he didn’t feel the need to protect me… though, as I said, neither of us were eager to kill any of the people we’d once called friends.  We were both experienced with monsters and such.  We’d smite the wicked plenty-hard.  It was the “hero” in us; I suppose that kept us from wanting to shed the blood of the innocent, even if they, during this horror-show, had lost their innocence. 

 

We met Dr. Mario in a clearing on an unusually dry afternoon and he changed the game for us.  He was from a slightly different dimension than the Mario that you’ve met, kid.  You see, Dr. Mario was something of an alternate form for him (not much unlike me and Big Brother, or you and me and the werewolf).  The Good Doctor had been well-liked and trusted by all the fighters from the previous tournaments.  The ancient tourneys had safeties set on the Stages, but sometimes, we’d get hurt… or sick.  Doc was a fighter, too, but he took care of us.  It was his primary job.  He was an expert on viruses – which helped with common colds and such, but he knew how to patch a wound or ease a sprain. 

 

He’d had very caring and gentle hands…

 

And, upon entering this game of death, he completely turned.  He’d always been able to turn the giant pills he’d used as weapons from medicines into poisons.  He knew the way of overdoses, too.  They say that hands that can make people well can also hurt and kill, simply because the mind behind them knows how to. 

 

“I know everything about the Hylian body,” the Doctor told us with a psycho-smirk.  I remember that.  He spoke about having studied us intensely.  We’d received his treatments in between fights in the Melee’ tournament… so did all the pokemon. 

 

“I have a special something that will ‘take care’ of both age and youth!” He’d laughed.  “Lucky me to get to see blood coming from the Hero of Time’s mouth!” 

 

Yeah, we both shivered.  Big Link demanded an explanation from our former physician.

 

“What happened to you?” Big Brother yelled.  “You used to be such a kind healer! A very good person!  Why don’t you join us?  We want a way out of this place, a way without killing each other!  We all have one true enemy!”

 

“He is your enemy,” Doctor Mario replied.  “I am just trying to return to my world alive.  Besides, having taken out a few of us, I’ve grown a taste for bad medicine.  The effects of the yellow pill on that young boy in the hat were rather remarkable to observe.  The twitching and the bloating were something to see…”

 

Big Brother went livid.  He came at the Bad Doctor with his sword shining a righteous light.  He dodged the poison-pills that were tossed.  I danced and dodged… Before I could bring out my bow, I watched Pichu get hit and take in a lungful of powdered poison.  I ran to her and scooped her up in my arms and evacuated her from the fight.  By the time I’d laid her down on a pile of green leaves and turned to help take care of the threat, I saw Big Brother kick Dr. Mario’s feet from beneath him and impale him through the chest.  I could have sworn I heard a scream inside my mind, a female scream, metallic…swordlike. 

 

Link’s eyes were… I can’t even describe them.  He pulled the Master Sword from the doctor’s heart, the tip coated in deep red, sticky blood.  I knew that our former physician had been given a quicker death than he’d intended upon giving us, but it didn’t change the fact Big Brother had just killed someone – someone who was not Ganondorf or any kind of monster… someone whom we’d cared for and once trusted. 

 

The Master Sword allowed him to carry her, still… which I took as a good sign.  He cleaned off the tip.  We turned our attention to Pichu, who was breathing shallow, painful breaths.  I took her into my arms.  Big Brother just shook his head.  We had no idea what to do for her. 

 

I knew a little of the pokemon-speech back then… not much, not nearly as much as I do now.  I was only beginning to grasp bits and pieces of it during my time in the Melee’. I knew that she wanted me to hold her and to pet her.  Big Link sat down on the grass beside me and pulled his ocarina from his tunic… it wasn’t the Ocarina of Time… he’d left that with Zelda.  It was a worn little plain-clay flute given to us – to him – by our best friend, Saria.  Link played music for Pichu… any song he could think of.  None of the magic of the magic-scores worked here, but music has a magic of its own even without making it rain or opening up gates bound by Time.  I remember the last word that Pichu managed to say… Pikanese for “Happy…” She stopped breathing after that. 

 

I was very upset when Link told me that I had to put her down.  “We have to leave this area,” he said.  “The R.O.B. Units will be here for the bodies and if they catch us, they’ll kill us.” 

 

Yeah, kid… if you make a kill or one of your allies falls, you’re going to have to leave the corpse and make yourself scarce.  The cleanup-crew are programmed to murder anything that still lives and are given more firepower than any of us are allowed in the Stage. 

 

With more of us fallen and our chances of having to face each other increasing, I made a decision.  I was going to commit suicide.  It had to be in a non-obvious way.  I had to make it look like an accident because suicide was against the rules and could potentially put Big Brother in greater danger – and the people of Hyrule in danger.  After seeing the pain in Link’s eyes after killing Dr. Mario, I knew I couldn’t subject him to killing me.  I certainly could not murder him.  I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to do it, even if he’d asked me or begged me to do so.  “Dying accidentally” or finding some way to get myself killed by one of the remaining competitors was the only way I saw out of this.  We certainly weren’t going to be able to do the plan where we get out of the Stage alive and storm SmashCity seeking Ganondorf’s head.  It was pretty much too late for that.  My only hope was that my Big Brother would be able to do that on his own somehow.  Maybe he could figure it out once he was sent home to Hyrule.   

 

I had to fall so he could fly. 

 

It was just before dawn after a night spent by the river (the other side than where we’d started out from) that I decided to exact my plan.  I made sure Big Link didn’t hear me as I shifted out of our camp.  He was sound asleep – not out of a sense of peace, but out of pure exhaustion.  It was pure luck that I’d managed to wake up when I’d wanted to.  I left camp and made my way toward a part of the river where the water dropped off into a long waterfall.  I had taken one of the fishing-nets with me staked one part of it to the muddy shore.  I wanted to make our outside observers think that I was fishing.  Sure, we’d eaten some non-pokemon rat-type creatures that I’d shot the night before, but fish, when we could get it, had always made a good breakfast for us.  I stepped lightly over rocks in the river, looking for just the right place I could slip and fall.  I observed the rapids, looking for ones that looked like they could sweep me away.  Drowning or being dashed on stones… not a good death, but much better than being in a situation where my brother would have to murder me.

 

I heard unusual noises from camp and stopped my quest for death immediately.  I jumped over the rocks back to shore.  The pre-light of dawn was just rising over our camp and Link was gone.  His sword and his shield were gone.  I knew this meant trouble.  I grabbed my bow and ran for the trees.  I didn’t cry out, for if we’d been found, I didn’t want to give away my position.  I looked around, squinting my eyes in the shadows and keeping my ears open for the sounds of battle. 

 

I saw a shadowed figure between two trees and didn’t recognize the shadow.  It was shuffling around at the edges of camp, turning over things aggressively.  The figure crashed through the leaves, angry, on the hunt.  It was likely that Big Brother was watching the figure, too.  The shadow was way too close for comfort.  I drew back an arrow and shot. 

 

The yelp I heard was disturbingly familiar.  I ran in a panic to where the shadow had fallen. 

 

Link lay on his stomach, my arrow in his back, the flames smoldering out in his blood. 

 

“No! No! No!” I cried, kneeling beside him.  “I... I didn’t mean to!  I thought you were an intruder! I..I..I…”

 

He looked at me – with those big, blue serious eyes of his.  He said “It’s alright.  I was looking for you.” 

 

“I’ll save you! Hold on! I’ll take the arrow out! And we’ll get you patched up, and. and...!”

 

“It’s too late,” he said.  “I can feel myself being pulled away.  Nice shot, kid. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

I cried more… I’m pretty sure I became incoherent at that point. 

 

“It’s alright,” he told me.  “Survive.  Just keep surviving, okay?”   

 

He went still, looking at me.  He died with his eyes open, looking up at me with a kind expression.  I shook him, but I knew it was futile.  He’d been right… I’d got a shot through the back, close to the heart.  If I hadn’t hit his heart, I’d surely hit a lung or clipped a major artery.  A nice shot, indeed.  I did not leave him until I heard the cleanup units coming through the jungle.  Their mechanical whirring became deafening by the time I left the spot of my “suicide.” 

 

I wandered after that, alone.  I’ve been alone a lot in my life, but I’d never felt more alone than in that day and a half of roaming the jungle.  I shot down some giant wasps and mosquitoes just to vent my frustration.  I never knew if what had happened had been an accident or if Big Link had actually planned this in the same way I’d planned to die in the river.  I doubt he’d planned, it, though.  Big Brother had probably woken up, saw me gone, and went looking for me.  If he was planning to die, he would have kept my hand out of it and done something like my river plan. 

 

I’d sit, sheltering myself from the rain, turning the fatal arrow over and over in my hands.  I’d taken it for some reason… just something I did in my grief-induced daze.  I kept staring at the blood upon the arrowhead.  My brother’s blood.  I had not taken my brother’s sword and shield.  The R.O.B. units took those with his body and Peach presented them to me later.  It’s one of the very few truly good things that woman has done since she decided to throw her lot in with Ganondorf and Smash City to keep herself out of the Brawls. 

 

From my guessing at all the announced “Failures,” I was one of three players left in the game after that.  The others were a swordsman from a distant country named Roy and Mewtwo – a powerful psychic pokemon. 

 

I ran into them when the earth opened up in quakes and fissures with rivers of lava.  Ganondorf had apparently ordered that we should be forced together.  I ended up on a small patch of land, the last safe-area left, halfway up a tree, watching Roy and Mewtwo fight. 

 

They knew when I’d arrived, but they apparently found me to be beneath them.  The two were determined to fight it out between each other, which would allow the winner to pick me off.  They probably thought I’d be easy.  The fight between them was pretty spectacular.  Roy jumped, charging his sword with magical flames.  Mewtwo shot balls of psychic energy at him.  They dodged each other expertly, and each landed a few hits.  Mewtwo was covered in small cuts from when Roy got his licks in.  Meanwhile, Roy’s clothing was barely hanging onto him and his exposed skin was covered in burns. 

 

I tried to snipe them from my place in the tree.  Perhaps that was low of me… but at that point, all I cared about was survival.  I wasn’t living just for me.  I had to live for Big Brother, because he told me to.  It was his last request.  I was the last left of him.  Unfortunately, Mewtwo’s telekinetic barriers kept any of my shots from landing. 

 

I leaned too far forward and fell right out of the tree. 

 

When I picked myself up, I saw Mewtwo slam Roy right in the chest.  Roy wheeled around and swept his sword for the back of the pokemon’s neck.  The swordsman hit the cord that ran from the creature’s brain to the base of his neck.  It was sliced cleanly in two and blood spouted like a fountain.  Mewtwo immediately fell over, slain. 

 

Roy walked toward me slowly.  I stood and shivered, trying to knock an arrow back on my bow.  I expected Roy to deliver me my end, but the boy fell over on his face – the force of Mewtwo’s energy-bolt having had its effect.  I did not know that he’d died of whatever internal injury he’d been given until I heard, loud and clear over the sky of the jungle…

 

“GAME!” 

 

I tip-toed around Roy’s corpse, not knowing what to do.  I heard an aircraft coming.  I heard “This game’s winner is… Young Link!”  After that was the roar of the crowd.  I have vague memories of getting cleaned up, getting medical care.  I was given food, but didn’t feel like eating it. 

 

I suppose I’d won by chance, but I had made a kill.  Big Brother Link was my only kill in my Brawl.  I suppose I come across as some kind of hard-ass, but that’s the truth.  I only ever killed one innocent person, the very last person I’d wanted to destroy… by accident. 

 

That’s what SmashCity’s games do to you:  They’ll take your soul one way or the other. 

 

I don’t my brother meant for me to have the life that I’ve lived when he told me to “survive,” but I have survived nonetheless.  So far. So far. 

 

Oh, kid, I tried to rebel.  I spread the word to whomever I could, to people all across Ninten.  We were crushed… but most especially Hyrule.  Again, I don’t know what sorceries Ganondorf has gotten a hold of to make his will happen, but it’s far more powerful than what he had in the story-mode writ into my code that I once lived.

 

Hyrule – my Hyrule… was overrun with his monsters.  Zelda… my Zelda… was stripped of her powers.  I was made to watch as she went to the guillotine.  My best friend, Saria, too.  My old rival, Mido… hung and beaten as he strangled to death.  The Sages?  Impa of the Shiekah had her throat cut… Nabooru had key muscles cut and was forced into prostitution.  Darunia of the Gorons… lashed and gashed, water poured into the wounds, then the wounds were frozen with an ice-spell… do you know what happens to rocks when water freezes in the cracks?  What happens to Gorons is a lot worse.  My young body was beaten and bound as I was forced to watch the fruits of my budding, crushed rebellion. 

 

Don’t judge me too harshly for standing by, acting as a guide for the Brawls.  I keep hoping that maybe, maybe someone from the Hyrule I have charge of will be the catalyst for change.  I’ve had that hope dashed time and time again. 

 

I’m not fit to wield the Master Sword.  I’m not… fit for too much anymore, kid. 

 

My Hyrule?  Completely destroyed.  In fact, your Hyrule rests atop the ruins.  Yes, you can feel that in your code – the story you never got to play.  The other Hyrule is another possibility.  All of the worlds are under the thumb of our “beloved” tyrant and fall under the screaming lusts of the citizens of SmashCity. 

 

At some point, I figured out that it doesn’t matter what good you do.  You do good for one person, another one suffers.  That’s why I decided to do nothin’ but drink. 

 

I try every day to drown the memory of my brother’s blood in a sea of booze. 

 

I’m sober for you kid, for the time being.  Something about you gives me a sense of hope I haven’t had in a long while. 

 

Now rest up. You’re gonna need your strength.  You might not win, but I think you’ll at least put up a good fight. 

 

If you say so, kid.  If you really believe you’re going to win… remember my story.  It is the story of one who survived. 


	4. I've Heard Legends of That Person...

** **

 

**NATIONAL ANTHEM**

**Chapter 4**

 

 

 

_Audi famam illus…_

_Solus in hostes wit et patriam serwavit._

 

The strains of Ninten’s national anthem play as I brush up Link’s tunic, press his shoulders to get him to stand straight and tall and generally say my last words to him before he is thrust into danger. 

 

“You got your sword sharpened, that’s good.  Is it bound on you tight? Your shield’s been polished up all pretty,” I give it a light hit with my knuckles, “Still strong. You’ve decided to carry a token? I can give you something of mine to keep you focused…”

 

“No, Mr. Toki, I brought one from home.”  He holds out a strange-looking stone wrapped in a net and cord.  I don’t even ask what it’s supposed to be – I guess that it must be some kind of fisherman’s charm or a bit of smooth beach-glass that reminds the boy of his island. 

 

The anthem continues to play over the loudspeakers in the SmashCity plaza as we talk. 

 

_Ille…iuxta me._

_Ille iuxta me._

_Socii sunt mihi…qui olim viri fortes…rivalesque erant._

 

Those were some beautiful lyrics, if I was remembering what they were supposed to be correctly.  It was roughly something about how “the person of legend I feared stands at my side – people stand with me, friends and mortal enemies.”  They were, at the same time, the most inappropriate lyrics in the world for what they were currently celebrating.  Rivals were not slated to stand side by side.  Friends were destined to become enemies for the sake of survival.  The song spoke of many people, all in one fight, but at the same time, shining bright together. 

 

Those that were to be united in the Stage were about to be divided – and with the way Ganondorf’s games went, divided permanently from life. 

 

_…splendor crescit._

 

“We shine brighter,” my ass!   

 

“Toki…” 

 

My attention is brought back to the present.  I lean down.  The kid wants to give me a hug. 

 

“Thank you, Toki,” he says, throwing his arms around my neck.  “I won’t disappoint you.  I’ll fight hard and play with honor, for you… and your big brother.”

 

I feel a tickle in my sinus.  No, I can’t cry… I’ve gotta keep the kid together and I can’t do that by losing it.  I separate from him, take him by the shoulders and look into his big eyes very seriously.” 

 

“May Farore keep your courage,” I recite, “and may she preserve your life.  If you should fall, look the Sage of Death full in the face when she comes a ridin’ for you.  It is said that if you show Death the bravery of your heart, she will guide you gently to Din’s golden lands, to Nayru’s infinite waters and Farore’s eternal forests.  Don’t look back, for those that you love will join you in time.” 

 

I wasn’t often that I prayed anymore or invoked Hyrule’s gods, but it seemed like the right thing to do for the kid.    

 

Little Link patted my hand.  “Don’t worry so much about me, Toki,” he tells me.  “I come from a long line of Heroes.” 

 

He smiles as the “angelic platform” that he is on takes him away, to teleport him to the Stage, which was set up somewhere in Old Hyrule’s Faron Woods.   All of the Champions are finished saying farewell to their charges at once.  That is when Ganondorf arrives. 

 

He swaggers out onto a stage built especially for him, flanked by Darknuts and Lynels (for those of you who never heard of the beasts, Lynels are a kind of centaur that roam high places in some parts of Hyrule.  They have lion’s faces and are terribly vicious).  He throws out his arms, showing off his armored chest to the crowds.  He says a few words about this year’s Brawl into a microphone, nothing that we Champions do not already know.  He steps down the stairs of the platform, letting his cape flutter dramatically. 

 

I suppress a growl as he parades around in front of us.  “Oh, this year is most special,” he says in a deep, dark way.  Puppies have been known to drop dead upon hearing Ganondorf’s laugh.  “I have made some promises to certain members of the contrasting worlds.”

 

Huh? My ears perk.  Our president walks around with a click-clop of his heavy armored boots. 

 

“If a certain fighter becomes this year’s champion, there is one world that will never have to worry about starvation again.  If another fighter wins, his children and a certain brother of a past winner will be exempt from my Brawls forever.  If one of two of a certain world wins, an entire people will no longer have to worry about small metal prisons….”

 

I am not the only person present who is completely confused.  Marth has a confounded look upon his face, as does Falco.  Cranky Kong, as crotchety as ever, is so befuddled, he’s scratching his rear.  He does that in the same fashion as a human might scratch their head. 

 

“I’ve met with those to whom I have given this… extra incentive.  I hope that you have trained your charges well.  I’m sure that those fighting for a promise will fight extra… shall we say…viciously… for their respective prizes. Oh yes, there is a rather special promise I almost forgot to mention…” 

 

He looks straight at me, then to Lady Midna.  He has a smile on his face that is deeper than darkness.  “Since I have unlimited power at my disposal, I can change the outcomes of certain ‘story-modes.’  If a very special fighter wins this round, he and his mentor will get to go back home to a version of their story… one where certain mistakes are not made…”  That smile again, “A world with an un-shattered mirror.  I do have that mirror in my possession on this plane of existence, making a reward for loyalty quite a simple matter. Two lovers, once parted due to the nature of their world’s planes, together forever. Romantic, don’t you think?” 

 

No wonder Midna’s been so aloof all this time!  It wasn’t like she didn’t keep to her shadowy self before, but… ugh! And this must be why she’d been favoring Link d’ Ordon over Sheik in the training!  If that literal son of a bitch wins, he and the Twilight Princess get to be together, away and above the problems of our divided universe!  Some Hero… I thought he was just psychotic before, but now I know that he and Middie are complete sell-outs.  I want to throttle that long neck of hers… I don’t care if she’s a “lady.” 

 

“Lapdogs of the empire!” I shout, in spite of myself.  Everyone is staring at me as I’m glaring daggers at Midna.  Ganondorf sidles over to me and sticks one of his fingers beneath my jaw and lifts up my chin.  He looks me full in face, those hate-filled golden eyes of his burning holes into my brain. 

 

“I didn’t really think it was worth it to give you and the little worm any extra incentives for victory,” the president droned, “Truth be told, I think the boy is doomed.  If he is not the first to fall, I will be surprised.  I suppose if he wins, I could… say…exempt his sister from my amusements forever… or perhaps I can do something for you.  I can cause the waters to recede and bring back what was lost.  Oh, but why would I do that?  It wouldn’t matter.”  He laughed again – that puppy-killing laugh.  “No, it would not matter at all to a broken hero.  What is a hero’s land without its people?  All of your closest friends died years ago… most of them by my hand.” 

 

He takes his hand away from me and I spit on his cheek.  I immediately feel the pressure of swords against my sides.  The Darknuts surround me. 

 

“Are you so eager to die, Toki?  Don’t you want to see if your little islander pulls through?  I don’t know about you, but I would like to see how long he makes it.” 

 

He snaps his fingers and the Darknuts depart from me. 

 

He turns to me again, before ascending his platform with his guards.  “You aren’t even worth killing at this point,” he says.  “You are powerless…completely powerless.”

 

The Champions are escorted by Peach and the helper R.O.B. units over to the viewing hall in our hotel.  I am glaring at everyone the entire way.  Okay, so I can understand why Mario didn’t say anything to me.  I know Mario and how he’ll do anything to keep Luigi out of the Brawls.  As for Bowser, he wouldn’t care about keeping Luigi out, but probably jumped to agreement in regards to keeping his children exempt… I don’t know much about his children other than the fact that they’re fairly numerous.   The “world that will be guaranteed freedom from starvation” is probably the world that Kirby and his fighter come from.  I don’t even care about them considering my animosity for Cannibal Kirby. I may hold out the idealistic hope that the people of his world are not all like the one I know, but there are always the horrible images from Kirby’s victory-Brawl in my mind, haunting my dreams, particularly that poor boy that Kirby only half-digested due to the parka he wore.     

 

“Freedom from metal prisons…”  I can only guess that Ganondorf may have been speaking of the pokemon.  Pikachu, for his part, seems very easygoing, disturbingly so.  Something about that “incentive” doesn’t smell right to me.  Of all the pokemon I’ve known… some do truly detest being trained and kept by humans, but most seem to find great enjoyment in partnering with the humans of their world.  Pikachu, himself, told me once that being inside a poke-ball was like taking a deep, satisfying nap between fights and play.  Is Pikachu up to something?  Between this event and his cozying up to ol’ Genocide Samus earlier, I think something is up in that hidden-genius brain of his. 

 

We get to the great viewing hall – where we’d met when the day of selection happened. Catering has been there to provide us a gorgeous feast and everything we could want to drink, as always.  I take a look at some bottles of Chateau Romani, put out especially for me, obviously.  That stuff is pretty interesting in its own right… Chateau Romani is a brand of liquored-milk, but it’s something of an artifact-name.  The original Chateau Romani had been made in Termina… a now extinct-world, but someone in New Hyrule who knew the stuff had taken up creating it.   I’ve had the original stuff… strangely enough, when I was underage.  The current stuff is top of the line, but it will never hold a candle to the real deal…

 

I sit down, keeping myself well away from everyone else.  I’m not feeling too buddy-buddy today.  Even when Mario comes close, I give him a wide berth.  He nods a sad nod of understanding.  He must know how betrayed I feel… with Ganondorf giving some of us secret meetings and leaving the rest of us out of the loop.  Mario said that he liked my kid, too.  He loved the boy for his courage and for doing for his sister what he was unable to do for his brother.  Now I know just how “deep” admiration can run.  I’ll lick my wounds and get over it.  After all, with Mario, at least, I understand the motivation. 

 

Midna, on the other hand – she sits at the far end of the room, in the shadows – can go to Hell. 

 

We watch as the angelic platforms leave the fighters in different, random portions of the Stage.  Meta Knight and Bulbasaur are let off in the same area and the battle is immediate.  No running, no looking for supplies, not even an acknowledgement between combatants – just war.  Vine whips fly and that crazy sword of the Knight’s drills and flays.  Wind off of cutting edges becomes leaves, becomes blood and leaves a moaning beast to drown in its pain. 

 

Pikachu isn’t even watching.  He’s at the buffet-table.  I do not know if he’s jaded to this, if this is what he was expecting, if he just doesn’t care or if he even knows what is going on, distracted by the bowl of berries from his homeland and a tray of sweets. 

 

Meta Knight moves on after his kill and the “action” is a bit dull for a while.  Fighters are moving along, some confused, some immediately seeking and staking out ground.  Little Link is alone, wandering through a dark part of the forest.  Thankfully, he seems to be separate from the others – very well away from everyone. 

 

Evening comes and deepens when I find myself nibbling the corner of a roast beef sandwich and watching a shot of Sheik and Link d’ Ordon posing, respectively, upon the body and the head of Charizard, whom the two had just slain together.  Link d’ Ordon is perched between the unfortunate dragon’s horns.  The two Old Hyruleans have a few burns in their clothing and some singed hair, but look none the worse for wear.  The two are clearly posing – preening themselves for the camera.  They disgust me.  I turn to Pikachu, who is now sitting upon a couch near my chair. 

 

“It looks like you will not see your promise of freedom for your people,” I say to him, sadly. 

 

“They’re already free,” Pikachu admits to me in his native language. 

 

“You don’t seem too sad,” I almost growl.  “Both of yours just bit it today.”

 

“I will mourn them privately,” Pikachu says calmly. 

 

“You act as though you still have someone in this game, rat,” I hiss.

 

He gets up off the couch and stands, looking up at me.  “I did say that the best laid plans of mice and women may just have a shot,” he says before grooming an ear.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I wish to go back to my hotel room and grieve my fallen ones.” 

 

He pads off.  I look back to the viewing screen and see the divided screens for the various parties.  Little Link has found a cave.  He’s shivering in it, using a pile of dried leaves for a bed.  Poor kid.  At least he hasn’t run into anyone dangerous today.  The cave he’s in seems to be at a good strategic place, too.  How the hell did he climb up there? The screens didn’t show that! Only someone small and light could do what he did.  Oh, my boy is smart! 

 

I yawn and decide to adjourn for the night.  There is a television in my hotel room, a small one, but the customary viewing for the Champions takes place in the big room.  I sometimes go out drinking with Mario and see stuff from the bars and restaurants in the city after our fighters have died and we aren’t really rooting for anyone anymore. I want to watch Tiny’s run from the big room.  I leave my T.V. off as I flop into bed.  I know I probably will not get much sleep tonight.  I could if I had a little “milk,” but I’ve already had a bit today and I really want to stay sober for a change this year, at least until I lose my boy.  Then I’ll drink my brain into oblivion.    

 

I don’t even bother to change out of my clothing when I lay my body down and look at the ceiling.  There is something hard and annoying in my pocket.  I jump up and nearly hit my head on the ceiling when I hear a “Whoo!” sound.  My pocket is flashing.  Why is my pocket flashing?  I reach in and pull out the strange hard thing.  It flashes and I hear a voice coming from it. 

 

“Toki!”

 

“Tiny?” I question.

 

“Yeah! It’s me!” 

 

It is definitely young Link’s voice coming from the stone in my hand.  “How? What?”  I briefly look around the room to see if I am being haunted by a ghost.  I don’t see my slain charge in spirit-form, but the stone is still glowing. 

 

“I slipped the stone into your pocket before I left!  It’s part of my token!  It’s a communication stone that a friend gave me!” 

 

“Are you out of your mind?” I gasp into the stone, afraid to raise my voice too loudly.  “This kind of thing is illegal!  If you’re caught talking to me… Ganondorf will have the Stage-help send something after you!” 

 

“Nobody said I couldn’t take something like this in… Besides, I want to talk to you.”

 

“Careful!” I insist.  “It’s already too late… and, kid, this is kind of genius… but you’ve got to make it look like you’re not using the thing…”

 

“I’m pretending to be asleep.” 

 

Indeed, I can hear deep breathing and snores.

 

“You can snore at will and make it sound real?”

 

“It’s how I used to get out of chores and some of my sister’s stupid games when I didn’t feel like playing them.” 

 

“Alright.  I can’t give you advice all the time, but I’ll talk to you when I can. I definitely cannot help you much during the day. Don’t talk to me unless I start talking to you.  If I get up to go to the bathroom too much, people will get suspicious.  Too bad I don’t smoke…”

 

“I don’t know why I’m not allowed a communicator when Samus is…”

 

“Say what?” 

 

“I tailed her earlier… I guess the cameras weren’t following me then.  She’s in the valley below me.  I heard her talking into one of her wrists.” 

 

“That’s illegal! That sneak!”

 

“Unless there are wild pikachu out here… I didn’t think any of them lived outside of the pokemon-lands.”

 

“That rat!” I exclaim, almost too loudly.  “There’s something going on between Samus and Pikachu.  She has no official Champion-mentor, but I’m pretty sure she and the yellow rat had something going on from the very beginning.  Now, I want you to be very careful.  Do not let her see you or hear you.” 

 

“I think her armor is powered down. I saw her curl up into a ball like a pill-bug once, but I think that’s all it can do.”

 

“Good.  Now lay low.”

 

“There were a couple of failures today…”

 

“Yeah.  Bulbasaur and Charizard.  I guess you won’t be fighting any dragons.”

 

“Bowser’s still with us?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

I hear a tiny yawn.

 

“Get some sleep, kid.”

 

“Are you sure I can?”

 

“Listen, I saw your cave from the camera-view.  You chose wisely.  As long as no one knows you’re there, you can get a few hours of shut-eye.” 

 

“Don’t stay up all night drinking.”

 

“I won’t.” 

 

I hear nothing but soft snores after that.  I wrap my stone in a handkerchief to mask any glows it might put out when active and slip it back into my tunic pocket.  Sneaky, devious kid.  Smart kid.  Gutsy kid. 

 

The worst of it is that he’s reminding me of how I used to be. 

 

 

 

 

The next day, everybody lived. 

 

The Stage was not without excitement.  Sheik fell into a bit of Deku Babas. As I’d watched, I smiled in spite of myself, not because an enemy of my charge was getting hurt, but because I remember fighting those things.  A fond memory of monsters… There was some speciation in them in the Faron Woods, however.  I’d never fought any that could live and move like snakes once their stems were cut.  Sheik was bitten by one of these “Serpent Babas” pretty hard, but apparently, their venom is mild.  Link d’ Ordon cut down some of the carnivorous plants and helped out his ally. 

 

The party of Donkey and Diddy Kong had a confrontation with Bowser.  It did not result in death – both Donkey Kong and Bowser limped away with bruises and other minor injuries.  I am sure the crowds were disappointed.  Occasionally, that happens – fighters will be evenly matched and decide to back off and regroup later, waiting out one another’s wounds. 

 

Little Link vacated his cave.  He did so just in time, too.  Fox found the cave – I don’t mean a fox, I mean Fox McCloud.  He came sniffing around the cavern and apparently decided to make it his base. 

 

The next day of the Brawl of Honor, Samus killed Meta Knight.  Apparently, she was allowed powered-down armor, but was still allowed one weapon, her basic energy-canon.  The fight was fierce between the two armored foes, but, in the end, Samus prevailed in a manner that reminded me well of her nickname.  Meta Knight’s death was quick and clean… but there was not much left of him to clean up and send home. 

 

 

 

 

That about brings us up to date.

 

As late afternoon rolls around the same day of Meta Knight’s demise at dawn, I watch Little Link wander the deep woods, gathering edible fruits and leaves. The poor child is desperately hungry. As he wanders, I lean forward in my chair.  I see another screen detailing another fighter wandering the same area of the forest, coming right for him – Pit, the boy with the angel-wings.   

 

I watch the moment they spy each other.  Link immediately puts up his shield and takes out his sword.  Pit draws that weird blade-bow thing of his.  They eye each other in a stalemate, approaching each other slowly.   An arrow of energy forms upon Pit’s bow. Link gets a scowl on his face. 

 

“I don’t want to do this,” Link says. 

 

“I don’t either,” Pit says, lowering his bow and letting the arrow of light vanish. 

 

They stand, staring at each other for a long time. 

 

“The two of us aren’t going to come out of this together, you know,” Pit observes. 

 

“Yeah, I know,” Link answers, “But the two of us are little guys.  Little guys should stick together, right?” 

 

Pit smiles.  “Do you want to see how far we can go together?”

 

“Yeah,” Link says, walking up to him.  They shake hands. 

 

They walk together, the camera and sound following them.  “I wonder what your Champion thinks of this.  I didn’t have one.” 

 

“I think he probably likes seeing a swordsman and an archer together,” Link answers.

 

I smile a sad smile as I watch the newly-formed alliance look for shelter for the night. 

 


	5. Now That Person Stands By My Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wham Chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a joke in here that comes from The Simpsons - a Season 5 episode involving animal traps and Homer's love of floor-food. When researching Pit, I found he had something in common with the baldest of the Simpsons.

** **

 

**NATIONAL ANTHEM**

**Chapter 5**

 

 

 

I watch as a coffin is wheeled through the hallway, on its way to a transport train to take one of the fighters home.  A massive sword rests upon its lid.  Marth follows the casket and I bow my head.  There’s a certain honor among swordsmen in our little world.  I cannot say that I knew Ike well… or at all, but it is still a sorrow to see him go. 

 

Donkey Kong had done him in, strangely enough.  They and Diddy had met and gotten into a battle.  Diddy had leapt for Ike’s face.  Acting on instinct, Ike cut him in half.  His casket had come through earlier.  Enraged at the loss of his small partner, Kong had given the ground a furious pounding, throwing the swordsman off-balance.  The gorilla had then grabbed him and made short work of breaking his spine, like a strong man breaking a plank over his knee. 

 

The fighters were dwindling.  Some of our own ranks were, too.  Kirby had gone back to his own world – I can’t say I miss him.  I think that Marth was considering shipping out, as well.  Some of us stayed on after we’d lost our people.  I always stayed until the final failings and the victory were complete, myself.  To tell the truth, I feared that if I didn’t, some bad things might happen in New Hyrule, since Ganondorf seemed to keep a very special eye on me. The Champions were required to attend final ceremonies, anyway, so I never saw any reason to go home and then come back.

 

Some of us went out into SmashCity for drinking.  Pikachu was holed up in his hotel room, having gotten sick off some of the food at the buffet, which was being investigated.  That’s what you get for eating fruit not native to your land, I guess. 

 

I went back to the viewing room and sat down in front of the big screen.  Midna and Mario were in the room with me.  The camera briefly followed Fox as its main character.  He’d been staying low and being sneaky.  It seemed out of character for him, being a strong fighter, but he really was being as sly as a fox.  He made short work of stealing the food stashes from Bowser and from Donkey Kong, whom I didn’t believe was going to last very long.  The big ape was suffering wounds inflicted by Bowser and a serious stab-wound inflicted by Ike in a failed attempt at self-defense. 

 

I smile when the camera turns to Link and Pit.  They are in a thick area of the forest, on high ground.  When the camera comes to them, Pit is standing upon the top of a dead tree that he could have only gotten onto by flying.  He has his wings spread out against the sun like some kind of magnificent swan.  The warrior-angel gazes out over the surrounding area while Link draws an image of the holy Triforce in the dirt with a stick.  I guess, perhaps, that he’s trying to invoke the protection of the Golden Goddesses upon them. 

 

When Pit comes down and asks what the image is, my boy explains. 

 

“I don’t know if Palutena can hear me from this world,” Pit says.

 

“Palu..?”  Link asks. 

 

The sound is pretty good.  Maybe the Stage-crew has decided that their conversation makes for viewer-interest.  I lean forward. 

 

“My Goddess of Light,” Pit explains.  “I am eager to get back to my universe, because I serve her.  I command her forces and the humans there need protecting.” 

 

“I don’t command anything,” Link explains, “I’m just a kid from an island… I want to protect my Grandma and my sister.  They’re humans, though we’re all actually Hylians.  We’re supposed to be descended from a goddess of light, a patron-goddess who became mortal to save us.” 

 

Pit is smiling as he sits down next to Link.  “I feel like I’m a little more mortal here than normal,” he says. 

 

“We kind of all are,” Link says.  I do not know whether his words are morose or just a bad attempt at humor. 

 

“It’s like a birthday party and everyone’s trying to kill me!” Pit quips. 

 

“At least you didn’t get stuck with uncomfortably warm and silly clothes on your birthday,” Link mock-complains.  “It was my birthday when I was chosen, which is why I’m dressed like the Ancient Hero.”

 

“Come again?” Pit asks.

 

“On my island, the clothes I’m wearing are the custom for when boys become men…something like that. It’s kind of weird… Toki – that guy you met in the training hall, the Champion, is supposed to be an Ancient Hero in my world and boys my age are supposed to dress like him.” 

 

“The guy who smelled like ten barrels of booze and a broken toilet?” Pit inquires.  “He doesn’t seem like much of a hero to me, but I suppose he had to be strong to survive and be a Champion.” 

 

“Don’t make fun of him!” Link defends.  How cute, he’s defending me.  Poor kid.  “Toki told me about his Brawl and he went through a lot!” 

 

“I wanted to come down here when I saw the Melee’ Tournament,” Pit confesses.  “It looked like a lot of fun and a good way to hone my skills. Pew! Pew! Pow!  Then everything went all weird.  Everyone in my world’s been trying to figure out how it all got hijacked by Mr. Ganondorf… both gods and mortals.  I wanted to join this at first, but now I am here against my will. There’s not even any hot springs here.  That’s a bummer.” 

 

“Don’t ask me.  Ganondorf originated in the history of the universe shared by Toki and me and we can’t figure it out. The only thing we know of that might cause universal power over many worlds would be our Triforce – the will of gods and existence in crystallized form… It’s kind of the ultimate manifestation of free will.  However, whenever he’s tried to get it, it splinters off into fragments because one has to have a balanced heart to touch it and Ganondorf has never had a balanced heart.  He’s always only ever been after Power.” 

 

“He sounds like a God of Evil. No regard for humans, I take it.”

 

“Not even for his own people, when it comes down to it,” Link sighs, “even though he likes to pretend they were his initial motivation.”  

 

I watch the two stretch out on the grass and watch the clouds go by.  I cannot help but feel a pang in my heart.  Their friendship is budding along nicely and it’s sweet that my little guy has found a new friend, but this is the Brawl.  I know the inevitable outcome of this friendship.  All friends are destined to part one way or another, but to know that it will happen violently and soon is almost too much for me to take.   

 

“You know, with those wings of yours, you can fly wherever you want, right?” Little Link asks the angel.  “Are you planning on giving the other fighters death from above?” 

 

“No way!” Pit asserts, crossing his arms and holding his head up high.  “I don’t want to fight in this place unless I have to.  Taking out monsters and evil beings is no problem for me, but this thing…setup…whatever… this is completely unfair!  Besides, I wouldn’t be able to get very far.  I fly under a blessing, and that blessing does not last for very long.  I’m not like a bird, able to go wherever I please as long as I catch a fair wind. I wish I was like a bird.  I was hoping for that…someday.” 

 

“I’m sorry,” Link says sincerely.  “Still, you’re lucky.  I can’t even fly at all!  I was raised on an island and I can’t even swim very well!” 

 

“What is this? A pathetic-contest?  Let’s beat each other out on who can be more pathetic?” 

 

“I am an excellent swordsman,” Link said, sitting up straight and tall with a silly, faux-serious look on his face.  “And I’m an expert sailor.” 

 

Pit laughs.  “That’s the spirit.  We’ve gotta stay positive.  It’ll get us through anything!” 

 

“I wish we had some food, though,” Link said, clutching his stomach.  “Maybe the Stage-management will drop some.  There’s not much in the ways of berries and stuff.  Even if they drop it on the ground, I don’t care.” 

 

Pit mutters something about “floor ice cream.” 

 

Suddenly, Link and Pit look at each other and mumble; “Mmmm… Floor-pie.” 

 

They burst out into giggles and roll around, kicking up their legs.  That’s when they remember to quiet themselves, in case anyone might be listening. 

 

“I checked the perimeter,” Pit says, almost sobbing with laughter.  “I think we’re okay, but…food...food… we’re so hungry we’re laughing at anything…lightheaded…” 

 

“It’s perfectly cromulent,” Link chokes.  “Maybe hardship and hunger will make us stronger and embiggen our souls… but I still want floor-pie… ala mode…”

 

And, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, but the kids get their “floor-pie.”  When they get up to scout around, a ways down the trail they’re on, there is a bush behind which they discover plates with various kinds of pie… ala mode, of course.  I guess the SmashCity viewers called that in or demanded it from the privileged viewing-arenas. 

 

Way to go, kid.  Way to go. 

 

 

 

 

 

It is late evening and I am in bed in my room when Samus falls.  I have my room’s television on and am drifting half in and half out of sleep, expecting to fall asleep to non-events when I sit bolt upright in bed to the noises of a midnight ambush. 

 

It is Link ‘d Ordon and Sheik who come upon the bounty hunter’s camp.  I expect them both to become smears upon the trees because Samus was sleeping in her armor and snaps to attention immediately when the intruders breach the perimeter of her general territory.   I never knew Link of Old Hyrule was good at dodging.  He’s not as good as my boy… he has some trouble, as he’s not a good jumper.  Seriously, when I was watching him in training, I’d wondered if he’d put weights on his legs.  I’m a retiree-fighter and I can still get more air than he can.   

 

Sheik, however, is moving swiftly through the trees, jumping branch-to-branch, not touching the ground.  She uses a chain she found somewhere on the Stage to lash Samus ‘round the neck, which throws off her canon-shot, which in turn, destroys several tree-tops instead of Link’s head as intended. 

 

When Sheik releases the chain, Link is behind Samus before she can recharge.  He puts his sword to her neck and seems to be trying to pry off her helmet.  Both of them are slowly sinking in thick mud. 

 

“Looks like I caught a little bird…” Link taunts.  “A hatchling in a tin can…”

 

“We’re both sinking, you fool!” Samus hisses.  “Let me go or we’re both dead!” 

 

“Oh, if I let you go, you’ll just charge up that blaster again.  I can’t die that way!  I’m the Hero of Twilight!” 

 

“Hero, my ass!” Samus spits, “There are no heroes here!” 

 

Suddenly, I see Sheik’s foot blocking the camera-view.  This is apparently one of the tree-mounted cameras.  She leans in, looking right into the lens with those blood-red eyes of hers.  Her face it reminds me of…. No, she’s not the same… I watched my lady die long ago.  Sheik takes the short sword off her back and I see it swiping for the lens, then static and darkness. 

 

She broke the camera?  Why did she do that?  The Stage-keepers are not going to be happy with her at all.  Maybe she and Link are planning on doing things especially terrible to Samus?  Perhaps they figure on her turning the tables and Sheik decided that she didn’t want an audience to witness the ignominious deaths of a proud Hylian and an even prouder Sheikah?  I hear Samus scream over the still-functioning audio.  Whatever Sheik’s reasons, the camera is gone for five whole minutes. 

 

Another camera pops to life, from a different angle, this time a little outside of the area where the three combatants were fighting.  Sheik and Link emerge from the trees.  Link ‘d Ordon is holding his sword aloft triumphantly in one hand and a cracked helmet in the other.  Link is coated up to the chest in mud.  The two are laughing about the sinking mud making for “easy body disposal” and how loud and pathetic their victim’s final cries were. 

 

I burst out of my hotel room into the hallway, clad in my pajamas.  “Did anyone else see what happened?” I yelp out to others who’d come from their rooms.  Mario is helping a drunken Falco to his room… I assume they didn’t see, having just come back from one of the bars.  Midna is awake, having come from her room.  She wraps her robe around herself and gives me a scolding look for ogling her in her nightie. 

 

“Did Pikachu see?” I ask, headed to his room. 

 

Midna pushes me back and sets a small amount of orange-colored Twilight-magic around the doorknob.  “Don’t you dare bother him!” she demands.  “He’s sick, remember?” 

 

“But…Samus,” I say. 

 

“I saw, and I’m sure he did, too,” Midna says. 

 

I sigh.  “I can’t believe she went down so easy.”  I glare at our resident Princess of Darkness.  “Your fighters are stronger than I took them for.” 

 

“They’re ruthless and they do me proud,” Midna says with an obnoxious air of boredom as she inspects her knuckles.  “Now can we go back to bed?”

 

 

 

 

 

The next day brings terrible events – and not just Donkey Kong succumbing to that sword-wound, which finally does happen.     Link ‘d Ordon and Sheik decide to split up temporarily.  Sheik opts to follow a few signs left by Fox that he’d failed to notice and cover.  The Hero-turned-villain decides to follow a different trail…

 

He’s hunting my boy and his guardian angel.  I sit, bunching up my hat on my knees.  It’s bad enough that he’s found some signs and seems to know roughly where they are at.  What’s worse is that he decides to take his wolf-form.  He thrusts his long nose in the air, sniffing, catching their scent. 

 

And he does catch up to them.  Since I am in the big room and cannot call out a warning without raising suspicions, I reach into my pocket and furiously tap the communication stone with my fingernails, hoping something will register.  It doesn’t work.  Pit has taken the high ground on a boulder when he clearly sees that something is up, because he takes out his bow and draws back one of those energy-arrows of his.  Little Link tenses, taking out his sword and raising his shield. 

 

The rustling in the bushes seems to come from all sides.  Then, suddenly, a furry shape bursts from the foliage and aims itself right for Pit.  Before I know it, a fanged mouth latches onto his left wing and tears.  Both the boy and the wolf go down with snarling and yelling, but, in nearly an instant, the wolf is up again. 

 

A rock hits it between the eyes. 

 

“Over here, Ugly!” Little Link shouts.  “Yeah, that was me!  Have at me, lapdog!”

 

The Wolf of Twilight snarls at Link and slowly approaches.  He leaps for the kid and the kid counters with his shield, steering the slathering jaws away.  They circle around each other, each striking – sword against fang – neither getting a solid hit in.

 

For just a moment, I see Pit try to get up.  Ah, geeze, he’s covered in blood… He’s staggering and can’t seem to wrap his hands around his bow.

 

In a split-second, the wolf is on top of my boy.  Link kicks him in the stomach, and with a quick yank of his hand and a quick flick of his sword, relieves the mutt of his tail.  I cheer as a flabbergasted ‘d Ordon runs off with a yelp and a whimper, leaving a red trail behind him. 

 

Link pants, holding the still-twitching tail in one hand.  He drops it and runs over to Pit. I sense a stirring in my pocket. 

 

“I…I feel sick!” I choke out, excusing myself to the bathroom.   For added realism, I really do get sick.  I force my stomach to lurch, sending ropes of vomit out of my mouth and down my chin as I run to the nearest men’s room and find a stall.  I quickly compose myself and sit down on a stall and pull out the stone, listening to poor Tiny panic. 

 

“To--… uh.. Goddess Farore! Goddess Farore! Help me! What do I do?” 

 

Disguising his communiqué as a prayer to one of our goddesses… clever. 

 

I whisper into my stone, putting on a faux-female voice.  “Your goddess hears you, oh valiant warrior,” I say, “but your goddess is in her private chamber right now, and so cannot see you.  Describe what’s going on to me, kiddo.” 

 

“Pit!  He’s really hurt! I mean, like bad!  His wing! It’s…it’s…”

 

“Is he breathing?”

 

“Yeah, and shivering and… well, you can hear.”

 

Indeed, I hear screams and other sounds of agony. 

 

Tiny’s voice comes to me small and sad.  I know he needs to whisper below his breath so that the people behind the cameras think he’s just praying on his token, but his voice genuinely shudders.  “Pit’s wing…it’s hanging onto him by a thread of meat…”

 

“Is the bone out of the socket?”  I ask.

 

“Y-y-yeah.”

 

“That simplifies matters.  Listen to me, Tiny.  Take some leather or a thick, smooth stick and thrust it into Pit’s mouth.  Then… neither of you are going to like this, but you need to take your sword and cut off that thread.”

 

“B-but!”

 

“Just do it!  At this point, its’ not going to get any better!  If you leave it like that, I guarantee that it will get worse!  You know Ganondorf had all the fairies wiped out and there’s no such thing as red potions in Brawl!   Even the milk will only get you woozy anymore and your Grandma’s not there to make you soup!” 

 

Dindammit. I didn’t mean to make him cry like that.  

 

“Stop crying!  Unless you want your new friend out of the game now, just do what I told you.  After that, put pressure on the wound and get yourselves to a safe place!  If you see any Hylian Willow trees along the way… you know what they look like, right?  Shave some bark off and make him chew on the pith.  It’ll help with the pain.” 

 

I hear noises of the kid obeying my instructions.  They are not nice noises.  After several minutes, things settle and all I hear is heavy breathing. 

 

“Kid?”

 

“I’m here.  Toki?  What do I do with the wing?  Pit kind of picked it up and is holding it and staring at it and stuff…” 

 

I feel like crying.  In fact, I think I am a little.  Good thing there’s a roll of toilet paper beside me to dab my eyes with.

 

“Leave it.  Take it out of his hands if you have to.  The last thing the poor kid needs is a reminder of what he just lost.  Keep the tail, though.”

 

“The tail?”

 

“Link ‘d Ordon’s tail.  Pick it up and take it with you.” 

 

“Why would I do that?”

 

“It’s the perfect intimidation-tool.  He’ll probably come back for you later, and when he does, you can wave it around to remind him of how strong you are.” 

 

 

 

 

 

I am back in my room, watching from the small television when I contact my charge again.  The cameras are following other fighters, namely, Sheik and ‘d Ordon.  They are providing a bit of unintentional comedy, at least for me.  I have to stifle my laughter to use the stone.  I know I should feel horrible for what I’m laughing at, but I don’t… he deserves every minute of what he’s going through.

 

“Hey, Kiddo,” I say softly.  “You aren’t being watched.”

 

“Toki! We can talk now?”

 

“I think so.  Other people are being televised right now.  I thought I should let you know… you really struck a blow on the other Link today.  Right now, he’s at his camp with his pants down and Sheik is pouring hot pitch on his bare butt!”

 

“Huh?”

“She’s trying to cauterize his wound.  You really messed him up today, do you know that?” 

 

“I didn’t think I did much at all.  I just lopped off his tail.  He doesn’t even need it in human form.”

 

“Do you know what a wolf’s tail is, kid?  It’s an extension of the spine.  It affected him even in human form.  You clipped his tailbone.  I don’t think he’s going to ever be able to sit right ever again!  He’s probably going to be walking really funny, too.  If he takes on wolf-form again, he’s going to be off-balance.”

 

“So I actually did something?”

 

“Yeah, you did.  How’s Pit?”

 

“He’s hanging in there.” 

 

I put away the token when the screen shifts to my boy and the clipped angel.  Link is without his hat and I find it easy to guess what happened to it.  Pit’s left side is clad in bandages and where they aren’t soaked dark red and drying rust there are patches of green fabric to be seen.  He sits with his knees drawn up to his chest.  His right wing twitches a little and, for a split second, I could swear I see a glowing, spectral wing where the left one should be.  It flaps gently and vanishes.  Link sits next to him.  They both stare into their campfire. 

 

“I waited so long to be able to fly…I can’t even do so temporarily now…” Pit says forlornly. 

 

“The goddess you serve is powerful and good, isn’t she?” Link asks.  The angel’s eyes brighten.

 

“Oh, yes, very much!” he answers. 

 

“From what you’ve told me of her, she actually takes an interest in you, personally.  In my world… the three goddess who are supposed to rule over everything… in our mythology…kind of… created the world and left.  They left stuff for their heroes and are associated with certain things, but we’re pretty much on our own most of the time.   I don’t think my goddesses will do anything for me…”

 

“But I heard you praying earlier. To a ‘Farore,’ right?”

 

“That was…urk! Um!... I’ll explain later, okay? Anyway, what do you think will happen when you go back to your world?”

 

“Well, Palutena has brought me back to life before.  I don’t think she can do that if I fall in this world, but, maybe… I see what you’re saying.  Maybe if things go well for me and I see her again - she’ll definitely heal me!”  

 

“Exactly!” 

 

“Wait a minute. You said ‘when’ I go back to my world.  Link… for that to happen…”

 

“Oh, I know.  I’ll probably get stomped by Bowser or something. He’s still out there. Or shot by Fox’s blaster, or…”

 

“Just stop it, okay?  Don’t talk like that.” 

 

“If it comes down to just the two of us… I don’t murder my friends.” Link says.

 

“We can make a stand,” Pit suggests.  “I’m not owned by President Ganondorf and neither are you!”   

 

Link smiles a cheeky smile.  I shake and hang my head, glad that he cannot see it.  Defiant talk.  Those two are going to get themselves both killed for sure. 

 

Link decides to change the subject by offering Pit some stories of his world.  I don’t know how appropriate it is, but my kiddo starts talking about the Rito people.  He details their culture.  They’re a race of birdlike humanoids that live in New Hyrule.  They do a very good business in mail-delivery.  They are born without the ability to fly and fledge when they come of age, gaining the ability upon the completion of a test of courage.  As I listened in, I worried that such a story would upset Pit right now, but, instead, it seems to do quite the opposite.  He leans forward, as comfortably as he can and hangs upon every word. 

 

I lay back on my bed, sure that in some other world, somewhere, a goddess is weeping.

 

 

 

 

 

Days pass by.  Sheik catches up to Fox and he falls.  Little Link and Pit do not move from their camp due to Pit’s condition.  He grows ill, a victim of infection to his wound.  The “Goddess Farore” instructs Link to collect venom from Deku Babas and to boil it until it becomes red.  It is not a traditional red potion, but something of a “poor man’s version” I learned about long ago.  Link manages to find half a discarded pokeball to boil the stuff in.  I have no idea how that got into an Old Hyrulean forest… perhaps it was a leftover from the days before the division, from the old non-lethal fights.  Those of us who’d fought for fun used to temporarily use pokemon all the time. 

 

The slapdash medicine does not help Pit much, but it seems to ease his fever a little.  My heart is broken for the brave: Every morning, shivering and sweating, the kid climbs up on the rock they’re camped by and watches with his bow ready while Link prepares the venom-concoction and hunts for food.   

 

When Sheik falls, I feel no sorrow.  I cannot laugh like I did at Link ‘d Ordon when she was treating his tail, even though, in all honesty, a part of me is tempted to.  The Sheikah warrior dies in… just about the most embarrassing way for anyone to die in Hyrule, especially from the perspective of outsiders. 

 

In Hyrule there is a species of domestic bird.  In most places, that kind of bird is known as a chicken, while in Hyrule, it is known as a cuccoo.  There are some notable differences between the chickens of most worlds and cuccoos, however.  Cuccoos are normally as gentle and cowardly as any kind of off-world chickens, but when they feel threatened, they flock together and turn into an ax-crazy homicidal army.  The ones that had been let loose in the Stage seemed to have had their aggression ramped up.  Sheik did not even need to try to hurt them.  She merely stumbled upon a flock of them in a clearing and was pecked and clawed to death without mercy. 

 

I wonder if the creatures are a new addition to the Stage – something to spice up the last dwindling days or perhaps punishment set up specifically for that particular fighter as judgment for what she’d done to that one camera several nights prior. 

 

That leaves… let’s see…. At this point, the only fighters left are my Little Link, Pit, Bowser and Link ‘d Ordon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the bright and early morning, Bowser finds his way to my boy’s camp.  He’s still scuffed up from previous battles he’s survived and is angry.  He stumbles in, setting fire to the bushes with his breath.  He gives a roar in Pit’s general direction.  For his part, the wounded angel stands up and holds out the blade portions of his divided bow – a sword for each hand. 

 

It looks like they are going to take each other on when Link returns from the nearby forest and brings out his own sword. 

 

Bowser lumbers and swipes.  Link gets a claw right across his shield.  He jumps and backflips, catching a claw to the leg.  Link yelps, but stands.  To my surprise, he pulls ‘d Ordon’s tail out of his pocket and waves it around like a little victory-flag. 

 

“You killed the wolf-man?” Bowser asks, incredulous. 

 

“I took him on!”  Link shouts. 

 

Meanwhile, Pit sits down on the rock overlooking them, too weak, it seems, to stand tall anymore, struggling to form an energy-bolt upon his re-assembled bow.  His movements immediately capture the turtle-dragon’s attention. 

 

“An easy kill,” he says to Link.  “I’ll deal with you, Squirt, after I put this one out of his misery.” 

 

Just as Bowser inhales sharply to build up a blast of fire, Little Link does something amazing – amazing and vicious.  He jumps up, kicks himself off Bowser’s belly, does a flip and plunges his version of the Master Sword deep into Bowser’s forehead! 

 

Bowser stands in what seems like surprise for a moment.  It’s like his brain doesn’t register that something just split its hemispheres and sank into its stem.  Pit is staring wide-eyed.  Link stands upon the ground, panting, hands on his knees. It’s like he’s expended all his energy in that one very hard flying-leap.  Link nearly falls down as he makes haste to get out of the way of Bowser’s corpse, which lands with a thud. 

 

Link wears no emotion on his face as he yanks the sword out of his fallen foe and cleans it off on the grass. 

 

“You defended me,” Pit says. 

 

“Of course,” Link answers, his speech a little dull and rife with exhaustion.  “I defend my friends.  And when you and I manage to get out of here, I’m gonna do the same thing to Ganondorf!” 

 

Pit wearily stands.  “Something’s coming.”

 

“Yeah, I hear something strange.  Howling?”

 

“Get up here right now, Link.” 

 

Link scrambles up on the rock.  Bursting out of the treeline is a certain dark-colored, slightly unbalanced tail-less wolf.  He is not alone.  He is followed…no…pursued by a horde of what appear to be other wolves – no… Wolfos! 

 

Wolfos are a species of Hyrulean monster.  They are like wolves, but can stand on their hind legs like men and have strong, manlike chests.  There are the common gray variety and there are white ones, which usually only inhabit snowy regions. 

 

The wolf-form of Link ‘d Ordon looks scared.  The zoom-in I see of his eyes shows genuine fear.  He makes no move to harm either Tiny or Pit.  Instead, he runs around their rock, looking like he is hoping to lose the pack.  He’s injured.  I can see a line of blood glistening on his fur. 

 

The pack surrounds the rock.  The kids are standing and have their weapons drawn, ready to defend their tiny territory.  Link ‘d Ordon fights and snaps, keeping some of the gray wolfos back.  He whimpers and whines when a golden creature emerges from the forest.  It is a wolf, like him – not a wolfos, but a pure wolf.  Its fur is white and golden and it glows like something divine.  It has one sharp blood-red eye that glows like something belonging to an undead creature. 

 

I’ve never seen this animal before in my life, yet something about it is achingly familiar. 

 

The Ordonian, though he is in his wolf-form, speaks in a human voice.  “Stop it, old man!  Don’t come any closer!” 

 

The golden wolf takes two steps closer.  The other wolfos part the way for him.  Pit and Little Link stare on in unbelief. 

 

“I’m sorry, Old Man! You don’t understand! I had to! They made me do it!” 

 

Why is Link ‘d Ordon calling the strange wolf “Old Man?” 

 

And then it hits me, like the falling corpse of a turtle-dragon.  Midna told me a bit about her world – and about the supposed story-mode.  In the story-mode (though I do not know if they ever got the chance to experience it firsthand or just “felt it in their code”), her Hero was visited by the spirit of an ancestor in the form of a wolf.  I take a long look at the golden fur… the blond fur… The creature on the screen is no spirit.  It is a physical being conjured of magic or perhaps of forbidden science. 

 

My heart sinks.  My brother’s body was buried in New Hyrule, but not before officials in SmashCity did a full autopsy and other things, never mind the obvious cause of his death.  I realize, with a sickness rising up in my gut that Ganondorf used a bit of my brother’s blood or tissue that he’d probably kept on file for just such an occasion:  I am looking at a bit of my brother’s body in the form of a monster-wolf.  To remind one fallen Hero of the heroism he lost, a vision was created of a past Hero he’d once admired.  The golden wolf convicts him silently. 

 

They’ve turned my Big Brother into a beast!  I think I can feel my mind slipping further down the drain…It’s spinning…circling…

 

It’s freaking out Link ‘d Ordon even more than it’s freaking me out.  He cringes up against the rock.  He acts like the golden wolf’s one-eyed glare is burning him.  He is a prisoner of guilt, it would seem.  It doesn’t look like he wants to fight the golden wolf at all.  When the golden wolf seems assured of this, he dives in, seizing Link ‘d Ordon by the shoulder.  The wolfos follow suit, snarling and tearing. 

 

I see bloody clumps of fur flying.  Little Link is hiding his eyes.  Pit readies a light-arrow.  He aims and he fires. 

 

As soon as the arrow lands, the golden wolf and the wolfos disperse, running back into the forest from whence they came.  I wonder why they aren’t sticking around.  It would seem that they were sent after a single target and suddenly lost interest as soon as that target was finished. 

 

Link ‘d Ordon is splayed out on the grass.  He is not a wolf anymore.  His tunic is torn down to the chainmail.  There is a neat, bloody hole in his chest where Pit’s arrow struck home and went right through him.  He is still and his eyes are open.  The shot I see of his face sends a strange feeling through me.  He was, perhaps, the greatest danger to my charge and he was a psychotic, efficient and remorseless player throughout this whole ordeal, but I cannot help but feel sorry for him.  It isn’t because he was supposedly my successor in another time and another life.  It is because his eyes – his dead-eyed skyward gaze – looks incredibly sad.  The look on his pale face is one of absolute remorse. 

 

Things are not quiet in the viewing room.  Midna is shrieking and crying.  She uses her magical hair to overturn a chair.  She storms out into the hall and I can hear her punching the walls and cursing arcane curses surely known only to the Twili.    

 

Maybe all of the beasts left because the Stage-keepers sensed what was about to happen and sent whatever they’d implanted into the wolfos to action to get them away from the area…

 

Pit falls down, his strength gone.  Between the fever and exertion, it’s heroic that he’s lasted this long.  Link catches him and apologizes about touching the area where he’s hurt.

 

“Pit?” he practically squeaks. 

 

“Thank you, Link,” Pit says.  “You defended me and I got to defend you... and to give your ‘other half’ mercy.  I was glad to be able to do that.  It looks like I’m finished.” 

 

“No you aren’t!” Link pleads.  “Stay with me!  Don’t you remember? We were going to make a stand together!  You were going to go home! Palutena was going to heal you!”

 

“I don’t look it, but I’ve lived a pretty long life,” Pit says.  I can see him smile.  “You have yours ahead of you.  And floor-pie.  And your sister.  And the sea.” 

 

“You were going to fly….you need to fly again.” 

 

Pit looks to the sky.  “I am, Link.  I can feel it… and I can see her… I can see her!  I… I’m flying…” 

 

He slumps in Link’s arms, his remaining wing dragging on the stone.  The angel closes his eyes slowly and smiles gently.  Link cradles him for several minutes.  No announcement is called.  I wonder if Little Link is feeling Pit’s heart slow down.  He’s certainly not waking up again. 

 

Then it is called. 

 

“GAME!” 

 

I sigh.  My boy won.  New Hyrule has a new Champion.  I’m not happy about it, though.  I am happy that my boy lived, but… the ending of these Brawls of Honor is never happy for any of us who’ve been through them or has an ounce of conscience.  Very soon, Little Link will be brought back here to be cleaned up and cared for.  That nasty claw-wound on his leg will need looking after.  Perhaps I’ll give him a taste of Chateau Romani or hard Goron-whiskey.  It doesn’t matter if he’s not of-age.  We will drink to fallen friends and fallen foes and see if we can forget, for a while, the sight and scent of blood.  

 

I wander out into the hall and before I know it, Midna grabs me by the collar.  She pushes me into an empty hotel suite and she slams me against a wall.  I don’t have any of my weapons on me, but I try to fight back.  She pins me with Twilight magic. 

 

“The plan is ruined!” she roars. 

 

“What plan?” I ask.  “Let me go!” 

 

She growls out Twili curses and a few old Hylian ones that I actually know.  “You’re a part of our plan now!  You and the stupid kid!” 

 

“What in Nayru’s name are you talking about?” I demand. 

 

“The plan! The plan!” Midna laments.  She lets me up, but I decide not to flee or to call security, because I want to know what the bloody mustard she’s talking about. 

 

“We didn’t want to involve you, Toki,” she sighs. 

 

“Just what the Hell is going on?” 

 

Midna sits down heavily in a leather chair in the well-appointed room, which I now realize is hers.  “My Link was supposed to win.”

 

“That psychopath?” I scoff.  “I’m glad he didn’t!”

 

“Shut your ignorant mouth!” she hisses.  “He was more honorable than you know.  More honorable than you!” 

 

“Maybe I ought to go…”

 

“Sit. Down.”

 

I obey, in spite of myself. 

 

“There are some secrets that you do not know, Toki.  Some of us… we were planning something. We didn’t want to involve you because we thought you were useless.  Looks like we have no choice now.”

 

“Are there cameras in this room?” I ask.  “This is a big open suite, not like mine.  I don’t think I’ve been watched for a while. Technicians got tired of watching me drink and barf and scratch things every year.  And I do parade around naked sometimes…  Should we go to my room?”

 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Midna says slyly.  “Yes, there are a few cameras here in the living-area.  The powers that be have enough class to keep them out of the bed and bath, at least.  I am using a bit of Darkness magic to obscure what we are saying – both in regards to audio and lip-reading.  I couldn’t do that in the arena, so Sheik had to take a risk and physically damage one of the cameras…She made it look like wanton vandalism without any inherent meaning.  Or at least, she tried to.  That incident might catch up with us.”

 

“The night she and Link ‘d Ordon killed Samus Aran…” 

 

“That is one of the things that is a secret, Toki.”

 

“They butchered her, didn’t they?”

 

“Samus Aran is alive, Toki.”

 

“Say what?” 

 

Midna looks me straight in the face. 

 

“Samus lives.  Termina lives.  The other worlds that Ganondorf supposedly sent into oblivion live… and Ganondorf has the Triforce.”   

 


	6. Cruel Kindness

** **

 

**NATIONAL ANTHEM**

**Chapter 6**

 

 

 

We find ourselves sitting in a well-appointed room, Tiny and I.  The victory-ceremony was yesterday and he wore a fresh version of his “Hero’s Clothes” for it.  As of now, we were due at the train station to embark for New Hyrule two hours ago and he is still in those clothes save for one detail:  Instead of wearing the floppy hat that comes with the traditional outfit for us “Links,” the kid is wearing a golden laurel-crown. 

 

It is not one of the laurels that used to be given out for victory in the old fights, either…

 

We have been spirited way to some kind of massive structure.  Now that we’re inside it, I’m pretty sure that it is a vehicle of some kind.  I can feel the gentle flow of movement reverberating through the floor.  It is soft and quiet, like a ship going over a glass-still lake or the most stable aircraft I’ve ever been on.  For all I know, we might even be in space.  A certain space bounty-hunter is in this conference-room with us, leaning against the wall in her armor.  I learned that the armor that Samus wore in the Brawl was a “decoy,” or at least that’s what she called it. The stuff she has on is the fully-appointed real deal. 

 

Little Link and I sit on a brown leather couch, beside one another.  Pikachu sits in a chair of a similar style.  Past the glass-top coffee-table in another high-backed leather chair is Midna in her long robes.  She leans forward, clasping her hands together.  Tiny and I are in for story-time and boy, does she have a lot of explaining to do. 

 

“You can start,” I say with a glare. 

 

Midna sighs and looks to her compatriots, the yellow rat and the armored warrior.  Before she can open her mouth, Samus interrupts. 

 

“Some of us have known about the ‘lost worlds’ for a while now,” Aran says, “I’ve been in contact with people from them almost since the beginning… since very shortly after the takeover.”

 

“You were sent home after Melee’,” I begin, “And you didn’t show up again until now. I don’t recall your universe being officially obliterated, just left out of the selections…Where in the Hell were you?” 

 

“Trying to save you!” she shoots back.  “The ‘Lost Levels,’ have been gathering intelligence and planning an invasion for some time.  We knew, ultimately, for such a mission’s success, that revolution would have to spark from within.  Our access to the Stages and to SmashCity were limited.  You mounted a revolution once, but it failed epically.  We weren’t going to let that happen again.  You had zeal without knowledge in your youth.  Now we have both strength and data.” 

 

“And what data might that be?”

 

“What Ganondorf holds,” Midna speaks up. 

 

“You said he holds the Triforce?”  Tiny interjects.

 

“Yes,” Midna says gravely.  “It is the reason why his every wish has come to pass.” 

 

“How in the world does he have it?” I demand, “And how did you find out?  It has a way of protecting itself if faced with an unbalanced heart!”

 

“Data-gathering is one of my specialties,” Samus explains.  “That and destroying parasitic organisms. We also had other agents, working to scan Ganon’s Tower. What we know is recent; otherwise, we wouldn’t have waited until now to act.  As for that unexploded nuclear bomb you Hylians worship…”

 

“Unexploded nuclear bomb?” I ask, “I’m afraid I don’t get the reference.” 

 

“I agree with you,” Pikachu speaks up in his own language. “The essence of gods in tangible form with neutral morality is even _more_ dangerous than any device created by mortals. It is hardly a bomb- it is much worse when misused…As we have seen.” 

 

“What did he say?” Little Link asks.

 

“Neither of the otherworldrs think the power of our gods is stable,” I explain. 

 

“It’s like trapping the will of the universe and making it your slave,” Samus coughs.  “Congratulations. Your world’s problems spilled out into all of ours.” 

 

“That’s not true!” I counter.  “The Holy Triforce can protect itself! If an unbalanced person tries to touch it, it splits off and flies apart, taking a form that can only grant partial wishes at best!  When he touched it last, I was able to set things right in my time before the old tournaments even began because I was gifted with the Triforce-shard of courage!” 

 

“Courage has been splintered and lost in my time,” Tiny mumbles. He looks down at his toes.

 

Midna speaks up.  “We believe that Ganondorf was able to artificially stabilize the Triforce using powerful artifacts from other worlds.” 

 

“Some of my people’s statues are missing,” Samus mutters.  “Other items from the other universes have been missing for some time.  So far, the data we have gathered suggests that Ganondorf may have gained access to the Hands’ trophy and item rooms…”

 

“The ones that had the props for the Stages in the first tournaments?” I ask.

 

“Yes,” the beautiful woman in the hulking suit of armor answers.

 

Midna sighs deeply.  “We think he may have taken one or more of the ‘props’ and entered the Sacred Realm from somewhere in one of the Stages set in your Hyrule before he wiped most of it out.”

 

“Most of it?” I inquire, hopeful in regards to having even a tiny scrap of my home left. 

 

“At the edge of SmashCity is his Tower.  On the back slope of the mountain it rests upon are some temple ruins.” 

 

“The Temple of Time?” I whisper, barely breathing. 

 

“We cannot ascertain as yet what temple of yours it was for certain,” Samus says.

 

“So, okay,” Little Link asks, “What was this big plan of yours?  I’m still confused. I’m guessing that we’re supposed to take the Triforce back somehow…”

 

“Precisely,” Midna says, “Although ‘taking’ it back will not be necessary. All we need is a qualified person to touch it and to make a wish to turn back Time and to eliminate the sorrow that has come upon the many lands of Ninten.” 

 

“Why’d you keep me out of the loop?” I ask, genuinely hurt, “And him,” I say, patting Tiny on the shoulder.  “We know the Triforce better than anyone here!”

 

“Toki…” Pikachu moans, “We are sorry, but… we really did not think this was for you…”

 

“I’ll tell you why we left you out of the loop!” Midna exclaims, “It’s because you’re a damn drunk!  You’re a basket-case!  You’ve been one ever since your Brawl! You’ve been traumatized and can’t hold yourself together!”

 

I notice that I’m getting a sympathetic look from Samus from behind her visor.  I do not know if she notices that I can see her face through the thing.   

 

“As for the kid… well… Look at him! Just a bright-eyed little thing!  Link and I decided from the beginning that we wanted to spare him.”

 

“Spare him…what? By killing him?” 

 

“Yes,” Midna says, sitting down heavily.  She rubs her forehead.  “I suppose you want an explanation for my dear Link.”

 

“It would be about time!” Little Link says, glaring at her. “And what’s to explain besides that he was a vicious brute?” 

 

“Every story needs a villain,” Midna begins slowly, “Even the story of a Brawl.  This year’s selection just came as the perfect storm.  We knew that those of us in the underground needed to strike this time, or not at all.  Samus was chosen… that was the first sign.  She got together with Pikachu to gather some final strategic scans of the city…”

 

“I thought you two were spending less time in the training hall than you were supposed to,” I say, “I knew something was up with you two…but I just thought Samus was overconfident..”

 

“OVERconfident?” Samus asks. 

 

“I mean… well, I was pretty sure you were going to wipe the floor with everyone – literally, and you knew that so you don’t feel much need to train. I didn’t have much hope for anyone else when your name was called.” 

 

“Are you sure your kid should be hearing this?”

 

“It’s okay,” Little Link says, “I wasn’t expecting to survive.  Everyone I know calls me an optimist, but I’m kind of a realist, too.” 

 

“The final, definitive sign,” Midna continues, “Was when Link ‘d Ordon was chosen” 

 

“And proved that he was a fallen hero and a total ax-crazy madman,” I say. 

 

If looks could kill, Midna would be murdering me, sending me to some metaphysical plane of eternal torment, bringing me back to life to murder me again, wash, rinse and repeat. 

 

“Get it through your thick head!” Midna practically roars.  “Did I just not tell you that every STORY needs a villain?  That’s what this year’s Brawl was… a story.” 

 

“A story in which I make a good friend and have him die in my arms,” Little Link says softly, holding the laurel-crown in his hands, turning it over and tracing its edges. 

 

“Some of us decided to talk to Ganondorf about extra incentives for our fighters,” Midna attempts to explain.  “I was grieved when I first heard his name called for the fights, but later realized just how prefect this was when I escorted him into the city.  Link and I talked things through and I let him know of my connections, as it were, to the ‘Lost Levels.’  Aran and I have been talking over computer-communication for years. Mario’s been in on it, Pikachu, of course…”

 

“Yet, not me… the first Champion...” 

 

“You were too busy weeping into your whiskey, also a little too closely watched by the President, at least at first – even if you _had_ come out of your Brawl without issues, you would have been a risk.” 

 

“I’m as sober as the Sage of Light at the moment.”

 

“At the moment, Toki.  Let’s see how long it lasts, hmm?”

 

Little Link puts the crown back on his head and lets Pikachu crawl into his lap for a good, even petting.  The pokemon seems to be trying to reduce the boy’s stress and make him more comfortable.  It seems to be working, just a little bit as I see the ghost of a smile come to Tiny’s lips.

 

Midna licks her lips and continues.  “We decided that at least one team of us begging a favor of Ganondorf to gain access to one of his artifacts would give us the best shot of infiltration of his fortress and finding the Triforce. We knew he had an artifact that interested Link and me, at least – not as a bid for power, but as a souvenir, the Mirror of Twilight. You see it on telecasts from his palace garden sometimes…”

 

“A big black disc with weird symbols on it?” I ask.

 

“Yes. You didn’t know what that was?”

 

“It wasn’t a part of my story.” 

 

 “We thought that… young love would provide a good show,” Midna goes on.  “If anything would encourage a Hero to fall from grace, it would be his falling in love.  What’s more,” she clasps her hands before her and looks down, “that love wasn’t faked.  We…really were… in love.  The president could see the sincerity in our eyes.  That was important.  Others asked favors to keep him off the scent.  The plan was for my Link to win the Brawl.  That way, we could beg our favor and sneak in.  The rest of our rebellion would be standing by to give us backup if we failed at deception and stealth, or, alternately, battle with the president.  I’ve been keying up my magic.  Samus has her arsenal ready.  We have a powerful fighting-pokemon on our team.  A speed-demon.  An excellent stealth-man…. And others.” 

 

“But there was only one who could touch the Triforce with any adequate knowledge and connection,” Samus adds. 

 

“But Link ‘d Ordon?” I protest, “He…he…” 

 

“He killed Pit!” Little Link bursts into tears.  “And Charizard and… and Samus!  Um…Hey, wait a minute!” 

 

Samus smiles from behind her visor. 

 

“Link ‘d Ordon became a killer so others wouldn’t have to,” Midna says with deep sadness to her voice.  “You see, his wish to the Triforce would have been to reverse everything that has happened and to make things right again.  The wish would have remade the universes and the world of Ninten into what they were truly meant to be.  Everyone who lost their lives would be brought back.  However, since it would be Link making the wish, he would be left with the memories of the world he’d just erased.  Even though everyone who’d been killed would be made alive again, he would keep the memory of their deaths.  He did not want anyone else touching the Triforce and bearing the burden of having had to kill people – of having had to watch the faces of friends as they died.  He wanted to spare everyone – especially the little Link right here.  He wanted the boy to keep his innocence.  If everything about this world was destined to be erased to create a better one, leaving a single person with bloodstained memories, he wanted it to be him.  He took it upon himself…”

 

“To become a villain so he could remain a Hero…” I gasp. 

 

“Exactly.” Midna says, thin, graceful tears lining her cheeks.  “We also had to throw the president and the public off the scent, so Link created this ruthless persona.  Sheik did, too, even though Sheik knew that she was destined to die from the start.” 

 

Little Link is pouting and holding the crown in his hands again.  “If it was an act, why was he so mean?” He demands, “The way Pit died was…”

 

“From what I saw on the screen,” Midna says gently, “He was trying to go for Pit’s throat, to clip a vein to make death instant.  Pit moved and that’s when he caught the wing.  He failed to finish your friend off right then and there because you started throwing rocks at him.  Link – my Link… he was always subject to certain animal instincts when he was in wolf-form.  You distracted him and he felt the need to take care of you first, like a threatened animal.  Hey… don’t cry, kid.  None of us could have foreseen what was to happen.”   

 

“Charizard…” I mutter. 

 

“Died quickly.  The blood in the camera shot looked scary, but he and Sheik actually took care of things as quickly as they could.  A clean stab to a dragon’s heart.  A dragon’s heart just happens…to have a lot of blood in it.” 

 

“What about Samus?” Tiny whispers.   

 

“I’m right here, kid,” Samus reminds him. 

 

“Yeah, how did that work?” I ask, wondering just why the armored hunter is in or midst. 

 

“Link ‘d Ordon, Sheik and I talked it over ahead of time,” Aran explains.  “I kept in contact with Pikachu and we made a plan to put on a little show for the cameras.”

 

“For my part,” Pikachu speaks up

 

 – I’ve learned that Midna has understood his speech for quite some time (crediting it to her having ‘a way with animals’).  Little Link is the only one in the room who doesn’t understand him, so I do my best to translate, “For my part,” he says, “I pretended to get a bad case of food poisoning so I wouldn’t’ be bothered.  I snuck out and found a transport to the Faron Woods.  I edged my way to a portion of the Stage’s electric force-field that was not well-monitored and shorted out the monitoring equipment, making it look like randomly blown fuses.  I set up my position. I called up my dear Samus…”

 

“And I signaled my ‘killers,” Samus said.  “Sheik and Link kept close to me.  You probably did not notice that on the cameras.  Sheik was an expert at stealth.  I put a bit of green wood on the campfire over which I was cooking dinner to send up some white smoke.  That was their signal later in the night.  Sheik had to take out one of the cameras, which was unfortunately suspicious, but we still managed to pull it off.  We did a little dance and said a few lines after which I disengaged from the armor I was wearing to let it sink in the mud.”

 

“You were naked?” Little Link gasps. 

 

“Not with my Zero Suit,” Samus replies. 

 

I lean over and whisper to Tiny, “If it’s that skintight thing I saw her in the first day in the training hall, she might as well have been.” 

 

That’s when I notice a cannon-arm pointed toward my head.  I hold up my hands in surrender. “Sorry! Sorry! Go on…”

 

Pikachu smiles, climbing out of Little Link’s arms to stand at his feet.  “Her sharp scream was my signal to short out a portion of the force-field with my natural electricity.  It was hard work to make a sizeable hole without being detected, but she came shimmying through and I let it down.  I got her to this ship and made my way back to SmashCity to ‘recover’ from my illness.” 

 

“Aran’s survival was vital,” Midna explains.  “She is the chief communications and tactical technician in our group.” 

 

“So, that’s the story…” I sigh.  “Where are we, exactly?” 

 

“This is an airship called the Halberd,” Midna explains.  “We had to hack a lot of codes and expend a bit of magic to procure it.  It technically belongs to one of the deceased. We are presently soaring the skies of Dreamland.”

 

I look around suddenly. “The Cannibal isn’t here, is he?”

 

“No,” Midna assures me.  “He was left out of our group for…obvious reasons.  We also have some of the forces of the Lylat System on our side.  Falco is with us, but sadly, we could not save Fox.  We didn’t have a way of getting him off the Stage.  To tell you the truth, I think we lucked out with our gutsy plan for Samus.” 

 

Midna rises up.  “Come on, we’ll give you a tour.” 

 

We walk to what I guess is the bridge (I’ve never been on a craft this big before… even the Moon I’d entered in Termina seems small by comparison).  Samus clunks up to a man in what looks like some kind of body armor, a wrap around his head.  He’s checking a series of guns atop a table.  I never understood guns before the tournaments, since the people of Hyrule had never invented them.  I remember being teased early on by Fox about it… about the “low technological development” of my world.  I’d countered by explaining the high magical development of my world to him. 

 

“I wouldn’t get into a technology-versus-magic discussion with him,” someone says behind me.  “We need all kinds of expertise, in the end.” 

 

I look up and see a vision of my past.  No… She’s not the same as the one I knew.

 

“Lady Zelda?” I ask tentatively.

 

The stately woman nods.  She holds something out to me, wrapped in a white cloth.  “We managed to retrieve this for you,” she says.  “We hope that you will make good use of it.”

 

“You’re… of… you were Link ‘d Ordon’s princess,” I say softly.  She nods again.  Her graceful movements are sagely and very gentle. “I am sorry.” 

 

“As am I,” she answers, “But I am honored to meet the legendary Hero of Time.”

 

“I am not…not anymore,” I correct her.  “I did not know that my story lived in your story.” 

 

“Some souls are ancient and remember that which most others forget,” she says, passing the bundle she carries into my hands.  “We are counting upon you now.” 

 

I unwrap the cloth and find my version of the Master Sword in its scabbard.  I pull the blade out and hold it aloft, surprised that I can feel its spirit surge through my arm, warm and forgiving.  I replace the blade and shake my head.  “I did not think that I was worthy of this weapon any longer, not for a very long time.  It wasn’t even really mine…”

 

Zelda puts a hand on my shoulder.  “It was your…big brother’s. We know.  Your heart has proven good, despite the things you have been through.  You can surely wield it.”

 

I look at her sadly.  “I am confused about one thing, princess… Sheik.  Lady Zelda of my world… Sheik and she were the same.  How is it that you are alive?”

 

“Well,” Zelda answers, “Sheik and I were once one and the same.  She was a secondary personality within me.  Long ago, I used an ancient spell I’d found and a buildup of the magic in my blood to create a body for her because I thought she deserved a life of her own.  My ‘sister,’ as it were, became my personal bodyguard.  When she was selected for the Brawl, I instructed her to protect our Link.”

 

“Again, my lady, I am sorry.” 

 

“We will make it right again, you and the little one.”

 

We both look over to Little Link, who is standing beside a large blue pokemon that looks like a jackal.  The jackal kneels before him for a moment. 

 

A large penguin waddles by, taking a sidelong glance at me, then Tiny comes running up to me. 

 

“Hey, there,” I say, “Making new friends?”

 

“I can understand that one!” he says excitedly.  “He’s not like Pikachu!  He talked inside my head…I think.  He said that he could sense that I was grieving…” 

 

Zelda smiles at him and kneels down.  “That’s a lovely crown,” she says.  “It’s much better than mine.  Mine does not carry nearly so much weight…”   

 

“Attention everyone!” calls a voice – one I recognize easily. 

 

Mario steps out before us.  “As you sure all-a know by now, it is a’ time for us to do or die!  The time for deception has passed. We expect President Ganondorf’s forces to engage us soon.  We will be making an assault on Ganon’s Tower.  The mission this a’ time is to get our friends inside – our Toki, Link Outsetter, Lady Zelda and Lady Midna.” 

 

Tiny raises his hand.  “Are we the only people who can touch the Triforce?” he asks.

 

“No,” Midna answers for Mario, “But the four of us have the best shot at making the right wishes.” 

 

Mario coughs into one of his gloved hands.  “Priority is given to the Links, then to the princesses.” 

 

“Why?” – my turn to ask the questions now.  “Zelda is probably more ‘attuned to the Triforce’ than my disgraceful ass and Midna… I’ve seen her fight! She’s definitely strong enough to be a frontliner!” 

 

“Thank you for your support, Toki,” Midna says darkly.  “However, I am of the Twilight Realm, not directly of Hyrule.  If I lay hold of the Triforce, it may just burn me out of existence in the process of granting my wishes.  As for Zelda…” 

 

“I’m weak,” Zelda says.  There is no sorrow in her voice, just calmness – a sense of fact. “We’ve planned for me to do most of the fighting alongside Mr. Mario because we can both kill with fire, but other than that… I have some other magical abilities – barriers, transport, and some healing skill, but Sheik carried most of my ‘fighting spirit’ and ability.  When I separated her out from me, I became the peaceful side of us, while she was the creature of combat.”   

 

“Do not underestimate her,” Midna warns.  “Give her a bow and she’s a mean archer. But, yes, we have decided that she should be one of our fallback options.”

 

“I am more valuable as a medic than as a warrior,” Zelda admits. 

 

Mario regards both me and Tiny.  “You are a’ both Champions of Hyrule and New Hyrule, respectively.  You both have strength and skill.  You are the Heroes of your lands and we must put in our lot with you.”   

 

“So, when does this assault begin?” 

 

“Soon.” 

 


	7. Dungeon Crawl

** **

 

**NATIONAL ANTHEM**

**Chapter 7**

 

 

I’m dreaming. 

 

I am standing in a courtyard full of pale gray (almost white) cobblestones surrounded by darkness.  A sea of stars shines in a deep purple sky and I cannot see anything beyond the courtyard.  Even whatever castle this place belongs to I can see only in faint outlines and subtle shadows. 

 

I know that I am asleep – that my body is in a soft bed, covered by a woolen blanket and that I am probably drooling a lovely little river over my pillow.  I am, nonetheless, here.  I like dreams like this – ones where I am aware that I’m dreaming.  My tendency in them is to completely warp the place, letting my mind play with the inherent lack of logic of the dreaming-state.  I don’t often have these dreams.  Most often, the dream is a memory of fighting Ganondorf and I get to make his head explode by willing it.  Heh, heh, that’s fun. I’ve, at times, summoned a giant bird, the likes of which are known only in Hyrulean legend as an extinct kind of creature, and took to the sky. 

 

This dream doesn’t feel like one where I am going to be doing either of those things, though, but since I know I’m asleep and am inside my own head, I expend my will only to find that it’s not working.  No matter how much I try, I can’t seem to make Naked Samus happen for me.

 

Brain, I am disappointed in you. 

 

So, I’m in a lucid dream, but can’t do anything cool with it.  What do I do? Just walk around in this empty courtyard until I wake up?    

 

I startle as a figure walks up to me out of the darkness.  He is translucent, almost like he is made of stained-glass, a classic ghost.  I recognize him – that psychotic-looking face… I step back.  “Link ‘d Ordon?” I say? 

 

He smiles and it’s not a slasher-smile, instead, it is quite gentle, but those eyes of his still have a peculiar glare. 

 

“I-” I begin, “I am so sorry.”

 

“What do you have to be sorry about on account of me?” he asks. 

 

“You lost your life…”

 

“You didn’t kill me.” 

 

“I… I thought very ill of you,” I say.  “I spent a lot of time hoping for the end of your life.” 

 

“I understand,” he says calmly.  “If you hated me, it means that I was convincing.  If I convinced my predecessor that I had lost my hero’s heart, it means that I likely fooled everyone, including our shared villain.”

 

“Your eyes still look fierce,” I say.  “Your face always looked dangerous… even before the Brawl began.” 

 

“I’ve always had the beast-eyes,” my successor replies.  “People I knew in life would comment about them.  And being made to kill in order to save people was not unknown to me before my time on the Stage.  I had to set sword and fang to monsters that had once been people and to monsters that could speak.  You knew that kind of living, if anything I’ve ever heard about past the past Heroes of Hyrule is true.” 

 

I nod, remembering how I’d easily dispatch Mad Scrubs, only to find that some of the hostile members of the Deku Tribe had really only wanted to sell me something.  My spirit was further confounded when I’d spent some time as a Deku scrub due to a curse.  There were many other monsters like this - creatures that I did not know were “true evil” or “beyond redemption” for sure when I’d made quick decisions to destroy them.   

 

“Besides, if I look too fierce,” Link ‘d Ordon continues, “it may just be the reflection of my heart. I’ve always been a little bit rough around the edges.  After all, instead of becoming a spirit when I entered the Twilight, or even some gentle creature, what my heart reflected turned me into a large, predatory animal.  A wolf is a loyal and brave creature, but also a fearsome carnivore.” 

 

“I am still sorry,” I say, “Your plan did not go as it was supposed to.” 

 

The spirit of the young man’s victim and killer fell down from the sky, landing deftly on his feet.  Both of his wings are intact, white and shining.   

 

He is not wearing his crown. 

 

“The fight is on!” Pit proclaims, “And we know you can do it!”

 

Link ‘d Ordon is smiling a sad smile at me.  “Plans change.  It’s up to you to fulfill what was to be my destiny now.” 

 

I hear a small squeaking sound.  A Pichu runs up to me and leaps into my arms.  Though translucent, I recognize her.  This is Pichu! My ally in my Brawl! 

 

“The best laid plans of mice and men sometimes go awry…” a voice says.  I tense when I see the person it’s coming from.  He’s wearing a doctor’s coat. 

 

“Easy, young one,” he says.  “I’m a’ dead.  I cannot hurt you anymore. 

 

“We’re all here,” Link ‘d Ordon says, gesturing to the courtyard. 

 

The yard is filled with the faces and figures of the dead – everyone who had ever been killed in one of Ganondorf’s “Brawls of Honor.”  I see a small man in a strange suit and a helmet, surrounded by tiny, colorful creatures.  I see the pokemon trainer that had been Midna’s friend and morality pet during her Brawl.  A Squirtle, Bulbasaur and Charizard surround him. Mewtwo hovers behind him. Bowser looms in the back of this panorama.  There’s a large main in a suit fit for vehicle-racing and a helmet.  There’s a stout, fat man on a motorcycle. A small green raptor-type dinosaur hops about in running shoes. A fluffy pale pink pokemon rides on his back. There’s an anthropomorphic frog standing next to Fox McCloud.  Sheik is there, the Kongs, Meta Knight, a pair of gallant swordsmen, one long dead and one recently deceased.  There are the two Sages from Tiny’s world that I failed, the Gerudo warrior that I failed, others that I failed…

 

I see people who didn’t die in Brawls, but in my attempted revolution.  My Zelda – she is radiant… Darunia, who has Saria on his shoulders…  Oh, Impa, you should have lived longer, I so needed your counsel… Ruto, I don’t even what to think about what happened to you…

 

So many people… so many souls…  

 

The souls part ways to let one through. He walks tall and smiles warmly.  Before I can back away or fall to my knees or do anything at all, he has me by the shoulders. 

 

“Big Brother…”

 

“I’m glad you kept my wish.” 

 

“Wha- what wish?” I choke out.

 

“You survived.” 

 

“Yeah…but… I didn’t do anything noble with my life!” I protest.  “I did nothing but drink… and fail… fail my fighters.”  I dip my head and look at my feet.  “I lived in resignation for so long.” 

 

My elder brings me to attention.  “The time for resignation is over.  It’s your time, ‘Young Link.’  We are all with you.  Try to remember that when you wake up, okay? We are all behind you.” 

 

I awaken with a start, planting my nose right into the river I’d created on my pillow.  I lay awake and quiet, listening to Tiny breathe in the bed on the other side of the room.  I do not register how long I simply watch him, thinking about what I had just experienced in my mindscape. 

 

I’ve always been a bit of a “sensitive” when it comes to dreams.  My original quest back home in Hyrule started with a week of nightmares that had turned out to be prophetic.  I’d dreamed of Ganondorf long before I ever met him.  Most of my dreams are the standard weird stuff without any clear meaning, rhyme or reason.  I had one about having conversations with telepathic meat, once.  Then there was the one I had not long ago in which I had to barbeque a case of tube socks or dinosaurs would eat me.  The one I just had, however, feels like the “sensitive” kind.  I do not know if I was actually visited by spirits or if my guilty brain was just cycling through memories of people I’d briefly met and watched die from afar, but I choose to take the dream as meaningful. 

 

Besides, even if it was just my brain trying to cope with what I know to be ahead of me, it is quite nice to think of an Army of the Fallen as lending me their power, at least in spirit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The waking part of my morning brings me coffee and Midna.  I sit across from her on an uncomfortable metal chair in the open cargo-area of the ship, a small table between us.  Tiny is there, wearing Pit’s crown.  He also has a mug of coffee, claiming that he’s physically old enough – being “of age” to wear the Hero’s Clothes and that he is mature enough, because of what he’s been through.  No one makes any objections to his caffeine-intake.  He is going to need the energy. 

 

I venture to ask Midna a question.  “L-Link…” I begin, “Link ‘d Ordon… Your plan for him didn’t come together until after he was chosen and you were picking him up to bring into SmashCity, right?”

 

“That is correct,” the Twilight Princess says, sipping from her mug. 

 

“Then… why did he look the way he did when I saw him from the viewing screen?  He… his face was pretty gruff and fierce.” 

 

“He always looked like that,” Midna explains.  “Well, when I first met him, he had more of a stupid farmboy look, but we went through things together – in our story – that gave him that ‘veteran’-look.  His eyes were pretty fierce from the beginning, even as a farmboy. If you ask me, he looked like a stupid farmboy to the end… my poor dumb hero.”

 

“Beast-eyes?” I ask.

 

“Yep.  He always had the eyes of a wolf.  It was just who he was.  Perhaps he looked cruel to you?  I know better than anyone that appearances can be deceiving.”

 

I see Tiny shiver as he sips his coffee. 

 

“What’s wrong?” I ask. 

 

“No one looks fierce in death,” he replies. 

 

“I had… this dream last night…this morning…” I begin.  “He was there with his beast-eyes, and so was everyone else who is gone.”  I spare a little smile for Little Link.  “Pit was in my dream, too… and he had both of his wings.” 

 

“Sounds like a nice dream,” the kid says. “I had one where I was eating pie ala mode and it was filled with blood.” 

 

I rub his back to try to make him feel a bit better.  “We’re gonna make things right, kiddo,” I say. 

 

Samus strides up to us in full armor, holding Pikachu on the arm that isn’t outfitted with the cannon.  “It’s almost Zero Hour, boys,” she says.  “Do you remember your orders?”

 

“Yes,” I say.  “We’re going to be let off in New Hyrule… are we almost there?”

 

“We’re coming up on the drop-point.  Are you two ready to go?”

 

“Yep!” Tiny pipes up.  “I’ve got my sword and my shield right here!”  He put them on.  For my part, I gird up, as well. 

 

“Do you remember what Snake taught you?”

 

“Yeah,” I say, “But I don’t think boxes are going to do much good…”

 

“I don’t know,” Little Link counters, “If Ganondorf’s got his usual minions guarding the labyrinths, they should be easy to get past.  I know that moblins can be fooled by barrels.”

 

“What about the rest of you?” I ask. 

 

“Snake and I are the ‘demolition crew,” Samus explains.  “The heavy artillery, along with the ship, of course.  Midna and Zelda are in secondary-position.  If you and the kid take too long or things get really hairy topside, we’re sending the princesses in after you from one of the other entry-points, if possible.”

 

“Until then, Lady Zelda’s going to be working with me,” Mario says, coming up beside us.  “Midna’s going to be with other darkness-magic users, Pikachu will be commanding the pokemon that are with us, the Clocktown Guard is ready – unfortunately the only true army we could get at this time…”

 

“Aren’t the forces of Marth’s world ready to go? And what about Falco’s buddies? And doesn’t Mr. Snake have lots of people with lots of explody-things backing him?”

 

“The greater forces are standing by in case the plan fails.  We are poised for an all-out war should today’s assault end in failure, but we think such a war will be futile if we cannot access the Triforce. 

 

“So it is really pretty much up to us.” 

 

“I am afraid so, but you two are experts at dungeon-crawling.  We have our faith in you. We distract, you work the underground. We are sure you’ll be successful.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tiny and I find ourselves wandering through a train tunnel carved deep into the base of a mountain, careful not to be seen.  Eyes of Ganon are everywhere.  The rails dip down underground.  It’s one of the freight-lines in the Forest Region of the mainland of New Hyrule. We watch for trains, as it is an active line, though less active than most.  We follow the map we’ve been given and find ourselves in a long and narrow side-tunnel.  We lay a grouping of bombs at the place that is marked as the probable weak point.  We run, duck and cover.  The two of us climb up the rubble into what looks like a narrow hall built of stone and brickwork. 

 

Ah, this takes me back. 

 

“It looks like a temple,” Tiny says, voicing my thoughts.

 

“Yeah…” I say. 

 

Temples in Hyrule were less places of public worship and more places built to guard sacred objects and sources of power.  The deeper portions of them always held traps and puzzles for sake of safekeeping the things they were meant to guard. Apparently, this was the way of New Hyrule as well as my lost land.  The inner portions of temples were inherently dangerous places, especially once they’d been overtaken and warped by Evil as it sought to control those temples’ powers.  If this was a part of Ganondorf’s palace, the underground of his tower, it was under the influence of Evil to begin with.   

 

“This looks like an old-fashioned dungeon-crawl, kiddo, standard procedure,” I say. 

 

“Like something I would have done in my story-mode if I got to live it,” Little Link says.  “I suppose it is something that comes naturally to Hylian Heroes.”

 

We walk down winding halls, lit in harsh gray light.  It’s dark, but my eyes adjust.  Tiny, with his big, wide eyes, seems to have no trouble.  I set my sword to a couple of keese.  I’ve never been sure if keese were truly monsters or if they were just wildlife.  They’re annoying all the same.  One flies right for my ear and I take it out.  Screw keese! 

 

There are some moblins roaming around – New Hyrulean moblins.  The two of us duck and hide.  To our surprise, there are some objects to hide under – huge vases that are too large for us to shatter.  I learned that Tiny has the same weird little obsession as I have with the sound of shattering pottery.  We do not want to outright kill the beasts as we don’t want to raise noise or to do anything to alert their dark lord to our position.  The two of us have always suspected that Ganondorf keeps a magical connection to the creatures that he spawns, particularly the ones made in the image of the boar, his totem-animal. 

 

When we are free to ditch the pots that we have been so comically waddling around with, Little Link and I strike up a conversation about what we think might be our totem-animals or “animal-sides.”  Clearly, Link ‘d Ordon had the essence of a wolf.  I feel somewhat wolflike, myself, although I’ve always felt a certain connection to deer.  I used to see them in the Kokiri Woods sometimes, but could never approach them because I had a solid body and a Hylian smell that they were afraid of, unlike the Kokiri, who could freely walk right up to them.  It was just one of many ways in which I was “different.”

 

“A seagull,” the boy says to my surprise. 

 

“Why that?” 

 

“They’re a small, common bird.  They fly openly over the sea, free to follow the winds.  They’re scrappy birds that take opportunity where they can get it and will eat anything… I’m kinda like that…” he smiles broadly, “Also, they’re my little sister’s favorite things in the world.” 

 

“This whole operation is risky, you know… if we don’t succeed…”

 

“Yeah… I’m worried about her, and my Grandma, and my whole island…” 

 

We turn a corner and that’s when I see…them…

 

“Toki, what’s wrong?”

 

I just stand and stare.  I thought I heard the descent and ascent of sharp steel blades.  There is an entire hall of them, spaced at intervals, much like in the ShadowTemple that I remember in my Hyrule.  Impa had once said something to me about the Shadow Temple being a temple made to appease the unquiet dead and that the dead very often liked to have reminders of their deaths erected for any living visitors to the temple to see and feel sober over.  Many of Hyrule’s ghosts were of people that had been executed…

 

They didn’t really bother me back then… the magical guillotines that descended from chains suspended in the ceiling by some magical force.  I’d gotten a close shave to my tunic and the skin of my back dodging them, but that’s all they were back then… things to dodge.  This hall of blades chiming like the music of butchery and false mercy fills me with a sudden, absolute horror.  I can’t stop staring at them… black blades with patterns of rust, large enough to behead horses with, the edges polished and gleaming… Grinning rat-statues poised upon the scaffolds… 

  

The one closest to us comes down in decisive judgment  and all I can see is a sunny courtyard, a pair lizalfos shackling a struggling Saria into place, Ganondorf pulling the switch that released the suspended chain…

 

In my memory, he holds up her head by the hair.  She looks straight at me… her eyes are still moving.

 

“OH DIN, FARORE, NAYRU, HYLIIIIIAAAAA!” I scream, curling into a ball, sidling into the wall of the labyrinth.   “No… not Hylia,” I remind myself, rocking back and forth on my heels.  Hylia’s spirit became mortal, living within the bloodlines of the royal family… Ganondorf held up Zelda’s pretty head for me to see, too… blood-streaked blond hair… crown left on in mockery…

 

“Toki!  Toki!”  Tiny is beside me, his hand on my shoulder.  “Toki,” he whispers. “It’s okay. They’ll be easy to dodge! I’ve already figured out the timing!  Follow me… Come on, get up and follow me…” 

 

I shake my head.  “I can’t do this,” I choke out.  “I-I-I… My memories… I keep seeing them…” 

 

“Murdered people, right Toki?” Little Link asks softly, understanding. 

 

I nod.  I try to pick myself up.  Cowardice is unbecoming of me, but I suddenly feel so sick.  I wish I had a drink.  They had some Chateau Romani on the Halberd – not the knockoff, but the real stuff.  I was only allowed a little, a celebration of my charge’s victory, such as it was and our joining of the grand plan.  I want a bottle of that stuff right now so badly.  The whole bottle… I’ll chug it.

 

“If you want to avenge them, you have to dodge the blades with me, Toki.”

 

I am proud to call this kid my successor.  He carries a pure spirit of bravery.  He’s even helping me right now.  So much for being older and wiser. 

 

“Ready?” He asks. 

 

“Ready,” I say, steeling myself. 

 

We run, we jump, we hit a rise in the path and leap right over the dull end of a blade. We dash and roll past others.  I’m just about breathless by the time we reach the end of the hall. 

 

Tiny has lost Pit’s crown.  It’s resting on the floor just beyond the final blade.  He’s going back for it, just as the blade descends. 

 

“Link!” I cry. 

 

He dodges, rolls, grabs the crown and emerges unscathed as the blade is cranked upward.  He holds the laurel-crown triumphantly in his left hand.  “Got it!” he laughs.

 

I can feel my heart pounding furiously.  “You almost got yourself killed!” I scold. 

 

He places the crown back upon his head.  “I’m not leaving it behind,” he says.  “It reminds me that I’m fighting for those who are not able to fight.” 

 

We head down another corridor and take out some lizalfos and stalfos.  I’ve always felt a little weird killing lizalfos.  They always struck me as having some kind of rudimentary culture, like the moblins.  They were creatures spawned of evil-magic, yet I wondered if some of them might be capable of being normal folk.  Stalfos, however, I’ve never had a problem dispatching.  They’re dead and need to go back to being that way. 

 

I regard the map we were given – it doesn’t have any definitives, but there are several probable locations of Ganondorf’s treasure room marked, gleaned from years of intelligence gathering.  I see a light shining from a doorway… one of the probable locations…

 

That’s when a loud “Boom!” happens and a portion of the ceiling collapses right in front of me, completely obliterating our path. 

 

I wrinkle my nose.  I’m pretty sure I know who is responsible for this.  “SNAKE!” I shout. 

 

Some serious shit must be going on topside.  Tiny and I run, taking another route, trying to avoid more thunder shaking the ceiling above us.   We wend down another corridor, further up and further in.  Hordes of guardian creatures come our way – awakened, no doubt, by what is going on above, sent to seek us out. 

 

I realize a horrifying truth. Ganondorf knows we are here. The above-ground assault has distracted him for only so long.  He knows we are down here now and is sending his entire underground guard to destroy us.  

 

Tiny takes out several turtle-like creatures wielding hammers.  I snake around a Darknut and stab him in the back, only to find three more upon me.  One of their swords slices a neat wound in my chest, it hurts, but only shears skin.  A great two-headed hound with mane aflame falls to our twin attack, but leaves Tiny with singed hair at the edges of his bangs.  Humanoid alligators come our way – I’m pretty sure they’re something out of the Kongs’ world since they don’t resemble Hyrulean lizalfos.  There are alien creatures that wield energy-weapons… are they from Samus’ universe or someone else’s?  Just about every kind of mook and minion and dangerous wild creature that exists in any of the worlds of Ninten is trying to overwhelm and stop us. 

 

I never knew there were so many colors of blood. 

 

Aw, Dindammit! Ganondorf’s got a gleeok.  I thought those were extinct!  Tiny and I make short work of cutting off the dragon’s multiple heads, only to have them fly around and try to bite us with their sharp teeth.  The only way to kill these things is to defeat all of the heads, or so the tales go. This one’s a four-header. Tiny’s shoulder takes a hit.  I feel one of the damn things ripping into my right leg. 

 

Red mingles with the rainbow of colors on the ground.  Thankfully, most of the mooks disappear in puffs of smoke, a sign that they are pure magic-spawn.  Others litter the halls. 

 

I sever the final gleeok-head form its body.  “Come on! If we stick around, more of these things will come and will keep us from the Triforce!” 

 

Little Link coughs and tries to hold himself up.  He’s a great fighter, but exhausts quickly.  I’m feeling a “dropping” feeling, a bad sign.  I look to my feet and see that I’m losing quite a bit of blood.  Tiny is pretty bloody, too, but I don’t think we have time to stop and bind our wounds.  We have to keep moving on. 

 

“Stop!” I hear.  I tense up and raise my sword, only to see a familiar – and friendly face pop out from one of the caverns. 

 

“Zelda?” 

 

“The both of you, come here.” 

 

“If you’re here, then…” 

 

“Up top has gotten pretty bad. We’ve already lost…”

 

“Don’t tell me the casualties.  We’re going to keep moving… and it won’t matter anymore.” 

 

The princess touches me where I am wounded.  She gets a look of concentration on her face as she mutters an ancient spell in forgotten words.  I feel better… not completely mended, but mended enough that I’m not bleeding buckets all over the place.  Zelda turns immediately to Little Link and does the same for him.”

 

“Doesn’t that deplete your life force or somethin’?” I ask.

 

“Yes, for a bit, but you need the life more than I do right now.” 

 

“My sword is yours, Princess,” I say, holding up the Master Sword in a protective pose. 

 

“Let’s move,” Tiny shouts.  “Come on!” 

 

Such a loud little voice on him when he says “Come on!” 

 

I see Midna in another tunnel, fending off small fiends with her Twilight-magic.  Yes, it’s serious if they’ve sent the girls down after us, since they were deemed as being needed topside.  I cannot help but wonder if Zelda was about to tell me that Mario had been lost… she had been fighting directly with him, at least according to the plan as it was relayed to us.  I am grateful for Zelda’s medic-work, however, so I can’t say I’m sad that they’re here. 

 

Another roar of thunder and the ceiling shakes.  Zelda swiftly puts up a transparent blue barrier of magic around herself, Tiny and me.  “I’ll hold things up!” she says, spreading the barrier down one of the halls.  “You two go!” 

 

Little Link and I run.  We’re almost at one of the points indicated on our map.  I look back.  Zelda seems to be having trouble holding up the barrier.  It’s weakening.  It crashes, along with the ceiling – right on top of her.  Her lower half is trapped beneath so many broken bricks.  Midna runs up to her and kneels beside her.  I start running back, but Midna holds up a hand and gives me a shock of orange Twilight-magic that pushes me back.  Zelda looks up and holds her un-trapped hand toward the ceiling, using the last of her strength to maintain the barrier where we are. 

 

“Go!” Midna commands.”  Blood is trickling from Zelda’s mouth.  She’s dying! She’s dying and as soon as she loses the last of her strength, the ceiling’s going to cave down in on us.  I push Tiny forward. We have no choice but to run.  

 

I take comfort in the fact that the ceiling above the two princesses has already fallen, so Midna will not be crushed, she’ll just be trapped on the other side.  She may find a roundabout way to meet up with us again.  For now, she’s bent on comforting Zelda…

 

Tiny and I enter an enormous cavern-room….

 

“It’s here!” I shout. 

 

He does a little dance.  It’s a really cute little dance. 

 

The Triforce is suspended upon an altar in the center of the room.  Energy swirls around it – not its own, but from various artifacts.  There are the statues that Samus was talking about, I think – statues depicting strange, alien bird-people.  There are stars… are they from Kirby’s world?  Yeah, there are these earthbound stars…so strange… There is a half-circle array of magic wands… I think Mario once told me that he’d once saved his universe from Bowser’s children when they’d gotten a hold of a series of wands and turned various rulers into animals… There are a few arrays that look like they are born of technology… I cannot place them…   

 

As the two of us marvel at the stabilization-field, a shadow looms behind us. 

 

“One of you putting a grenade under my throne…. Very clever…. Heh, heh, heh.  Not clever enough…” 

 

Tiny and I turn as one.  Ganondorf stands, not in armor, but in sorcerer’s robes.  He holds two long swords in his massive hands.  He smells of smoke, of deep night, a hint of fine swine-reek and blood.  He smells strongly of blood. 

 

“So, you’ve found my little secret.  I always knew that you’d cause trouble for me in the end, _Toki_.  Still, I didn’t quite expect your end to be so… dramatic.  How many years have you languished?  You’re a faded Hero!  Nothing more than a child.  And, of course, you had to drag a child into this.  Oh, little one, you could have just gone home after the last Brawl… to your sister.  I’m afraid that misfortune will befall her now, and it will be all your fault!”

 

“Shut up!” Tiny screams, holding out his sword.  “You’re not gonna win!  Toki and I are going to destroy you!” 

 

“Is that so?” Ganondorf laughs.  He stows one of his swords and lifts his hand.  With it, the Triforce starts lifting, still within the stabilizing-field.  “I’ve already won, boys.  All you have left to do is die!”

 

“I’ll hold him off!” Tiny shouts.

 

I dodge a sphere of magic that Ganondorf sends my way.  I quickly deflect it with the Master Sword.  The magic hits its master, who stands paralyzed for just a moment.  So predictable, Ganondorf… You really never change…

 

Little Link takes this opportunity to jump up and give his nose a smiting.  I bolt toward the Triforce.  Ganondorf recovers and backhands Little Link.  I keep pressing toward my goal.  I watch Tiny recover. 

 

Oh, he’s quick! He’s jumping around all over the place, dodging Ganondorf’s blades.  The sorcerer’s swords clash against Tiny’s version of the Master Sword.  He’s keeping up! 

 

Ganondorf sweeps his right-hand sword for the boy… Little Link falls and the blade is stained in his blood.  I cry out, but Tiny reaches out to me, commanding me to keep running. 

 

Our “president,” doesn’t bother to finish off Tiny. Instead, he comes after me.  As he runs, as heavy as a colossus, dark smoke curls about his feet and envelops him.  The room is long and I keep running, finding myself pursued by an enormous boar with wolflike paws and hair like blood and flame. 

 

He catches up to me and uses a great paw to bat me across the hall like a cat playing with a toy.  It hurts.  I can feel the meat partially-separate from my ribs.  Breathe! Can’t breathe!

 

I try to get up, crawling.  I’m pawed across the room again.  I cringe under the wet-hot stink of boar’s breath.  I can see a tusk bearing down on me… I’m about to be gored…

 

The Triforce! It’s right in front of me!  If I can just get up… I can reach it! 

 

I hear a shrill cry. 

 

“Hiiiiyaa!”

 

It’s Tiny! His front is stained crimson, but he is leaping up in the air… I cannot believe what I am seeing!  He drives the Master Sword right into the jewel in the center of boar-Ganon’s forehead! 

 

Ganon shakes and is pawing at him, trying to dislodge the sword and the boy, who hangs on for dear life.  It seems like the sword did not imbed itself fully into the skull of its victim. 

 

Little Link shouts down to me.  “I told you that I was gonna do this!” 

 

He is pale.  I don’t think he can hang on much longer. 

 

I drag myself up in agony.  The Triforce… I reach out… and… and…

 

My left hand meets gold and it burns like fire.  I can feel the energy of multiple universes flow through my spirit.  I close my eyes, for they cannot take the light.  I vaguely hear Ganon roaring in the background.  I hear Tiny falling to the floor.  The sounds grow fainter and I feel very far away.  The world melts beneath my feet. 

 

Multiple voices call to me, speaking through Time.

 

_“What is thy wish?”_

 

…


	8. We Shine Brighter

** **

 

**NATIONAL ANTHEM**

**Epilogue**

 

 

It has been seven years since I last visited this city.  It feels like seven lifetimes ago, or, more accurately, an alternate universe ago…a multiverse ago… Walking the streets in the bright sunlight of the perpetual Spring here feels strange.  I recognize many landmarks, but they exist now in better days, a peaceful era. 

 

After the Melee’ Tournament, I was sent home.  My big brother and I were sent back to our world, but we became as one again.  Big Brother is always in my heart, because he became a part of my heart again, alive and breathing and happy.  I suppose I regret sharing my memories with him – that part of myself that he completes - but it couldn’t be helped.  He went back to his time to eventually become me, and… well, Time itself really got twisted on account of us.  Separated parts of a soul became one again and we were left to go grow up together.  I honestly do not know if I am a young man at present, still a child, or an old man… My body is now a young man’s body, but I feel old… so very old. 

 

I remember shooting my older self down, but I don’t remember being shot as my older self… such is the nature of our memories and what happened when I pressed the great golden reset-button.  The Brawls of Honor never began.  Instead, what is going on now in SmashCity and surrounding areas is merely the “Brawl” – a tournament in the old style, the way it was meant to be. 

 

I suppose I was always something of an “ageless” being. I’ve hopped through being grown up and not-so-grown up so many times by now that I’m sure I’ll never know where I stand.  The idea of becoming a shade after my death, bound to Hyrule for generations due to my regrets seems like it would be pretty accurate for me as far as fate goes.  There are rumors that it happened in one of the universes… Link ‘d Ordon’s golden wolf…

 

The world of the Stages… the world of Ninten, ruled by the Hands… Here I am again, not as a competitor, but as member of the audience.  It is a place that exists outside of Time.  I met (again), those people from two different possible futures of my world, hundreds of years removed from me, even though I’m only seven removed from them. 

 

It broke my heart when Tiny didn’t recognize me… I told myself that it was for the best.  We’ve become friends again, but we lack the closeness of the fire-forged mentor and charge relationship we had in the reality I do not tell him about.

 

After Melee’ disbanded, Ganondorf never took over.  He never found his way into the Hands’ artifact-room, never found any sufficiently-magical items to carry out his plans and never gained control of the Triforce, and that was that.  My wish had worked – leaving me with memories of “another time that didn’t happen,” which seems to be a common thing that happens to me. 

 

I don’t mind too much not having a story to tell – or having true stories to tell that I know others did not live.  Sometimes people take my tales as entertaining fiction. After my initial quest to save Hryule, I grew used to it.  I learned to take it as course for my life after my endless days in Termina.  It is okay… I tell myself this constantly.  It is okay… though I’m not sure that my whole self believes that it really is.  Having one’s own story that cannot be shared with anyone else you’ve lived it with is a lonely thing. 

 

My dearest friends are alive.  Lady Zelda is ruling Hyrule – my Hyrule, with her velvet fist.  The awakened Sages are guarding their respective elements.  I roam the countryside doing odd jobs for the Crown, schooling the knights and seeking out people who need help.  Since the portal opened and Master Hand has invited us to be spectators to his new Brawl tournament in his pocket-dimension, I chose to return – although Zelda has stayed home, having too much business to attend to.

 

SmashCity is a nice place to take a little vacation.  I’ve been attending tournament Brawls as a spectator, watching various people fight in pageants of athletics and ingenuity – and more than a little bit of comedy.  The fights are set small, as they once were – like the ones I participated in before the dark times.  There are tiers and a general tournament-structure, but sometimes the players get together to fight for fun in practice matches, in random formations… Master Hand has created super-powered attacks for them, too, tailored to each fighter’s personality and the world that he or she comes from. When someone grabs as “Smash Ball,” the audience is in for a great show.  

 

I take my seat in one of the open live-viewing areas… The Pokemon Stadium, which has many seats.  I’ve always liked this Stage.  It’s one of the old ones, not the vast force-field encompassed arenas.  Today’s matches aren’t a brutal game of survival, but merely a good old-fashioned fight. 

 

I have a bottle of cold milk with me.  It’s not Chateau Romani.  It’s a funny thing…. After I became myself again, after the wish… I had no desire to drink anymore.  It is like the physical aspects of addiction disappeared.  I still feel the mental aspects crop up from time to time, but I’ve decided that I want to face life as clear-headed as possible, even if it hurts.  The nightmares I have are tough, but I always wake up in the morning to the dawn of a new day.

 

From what I’ve learned, Ninten was not without its trouble in my absence.  Just because I made a Triforce-wish to set everything to rights doesn’t mean that the world did not face threat.  In fact, the threat that the Hands did face in lieu of Ganondorf’s game was a power so significant that it made Ganondorf mellow out.  Yes, Ganondorf has been participating as a fighter and he’s been legitimate. In fact, coming here to watch matches and seeing the man play by the rules amuses me greatly.  It’s like seeing a lion turned into a lamb, although that’s not exactly accurate.  He fights as cruelly as he can get away with.  His Smash-attack turns him into his beast-form temporarily and he still has all the look and strength of a wild boar, even as he strikes me as having been made into a domesticated pig. 

 

It isn’t like he can be tried and convicted for crimes he did not commit – treason he’d committed in another universe, much less one that was dissolved via my will. 

 

Still, there is a rather popular series of books going around that some of the literate fighters have been reading that everyone has decided to keep out of his hands and away from his knowledge – at least ever since I started describing my temporally-dissolved experiences to some of my old friends, as well as a few of the new ones.  I shivered as Tiny described the stories to me… it’s almost like the plot of my alternate experience followed those books…  It makes me wonder if the great powers behind our universes can be a little uncreative at times. 

 

It’s very funny… how some of the universes of the Hands’ nation of Ninten exist in different eras.  The Hero of Winds (whom I know as “Little Link” and “Tiny”) as well as the Hero of Twilight (Link ‘d Ordon) keep their homes in possible futures from my perspective, yet Samus and Fox are the same old Samus and Fox… The Hands, of course, are ever-living and unchanging. 

 

I, in turn, was told about the threat that happened fairly recently (from their perspective) to the World of the Stages.  Something called “Subspace” blanketed the many lands of the Stages.  It was controlled by an entity of great mystery and great power that everyone called “Tabuu.”  All of the fighters from this go-round of the tournament banded together to stand against him and to keep Ninten from falling into the Subspace.  This is what humbled Ganondorf, so I’m told.  He had tried to use it as a means of taking over, or so the rumors say, and generally worked his own perpetual megalomaniacal wickedness - only to learn that some forms of Power are beyond his control.  Link ‘d Ordon said that he and his Lady Zelda revived him themselves when he’d had the fate to become a still, dead trophy.  He said that he “almost regretted” doing it, but that Ganondorf’s power was needed.  The power of all the “Smashers” was needed to keep this world free. 

 

Nonetheless, ‘d Ordon told met that he wasn’t surprised at all at the plot to my story.  “Yes, Ganondorf would do that, given the chance,” he’d agreed.  I left out a lot of details when speaking with him about it, though.  He is a complete fan-boy of me, as his “Hero of Time” - almost as much as Tiny is.  The legends of their respective worlds run deep.  I didn’t tell Link ‘d Ordon… completely… of his role in what I’d lived outside of Time.  I did not wish to burden him with what I’d seen him become for the sake of a dark kind of secret heroism.  I tell him that I’m proud of him… whenever I see him.  I leave it at that.

 

Little Link, too.  I cannot express my pride in that boy enough.  On the non-lethal stages - oh, he fights hard.  He’s not a strong fighter, but he is quick and smart.  He’s won the adoration of many female regular residents of the Hands’ world for the sake of his cute nature.  He’s well liked by most of the other competitors, too.  He plays to charm, that kid.

 

The national anthem of Ninten plays before the latest match begins.  I close my eyes and listen to it.  It always seemed wrong before, in Ganondorf’s world, but here, it is the most appropriate song in the world.  My long ears catch its strains:

 

_Audi famam illus…Solus in hostes wit…et patriam serwavit…._

 

“I’ve heard legends of that person…” Legends, indeed.   

_Cucurrit quaeque tetigit destrunes… Spes omnibus, mihi quoque…_

_Terror omnibus, mihi quoque…_

 

I look out over the people gathered to watch with me – not all of them are merely spectators, some of them are ex-combatants from Melee’ like I am - and some of them are current Brawl fighters sitting in to watch.  To revere… yes, that is the right word. I cannot look at them without seeing brilliant plans and those plans suddenly shifted, kindness and cruelty – in some cases cruel kindness, courage under fire and great sacrifices.  After seeing the things they are capable of, I have nothing but reverence for most of them, and a twinge of fear regarding the rest. 

 

_Ille… Ille iuxta me… Ille iuxta me…_

_Socii sunt mihi…qui olim viri fortes rivalesque errant…_

 

Side-by-side, all of us… all of them.  They aren’t pitted against each other scrapping for survival and destroying one another, instead, they fight together, for honor and for fun. The current competitors fought Subspace together, too.  I remember fighting side-by-side in the plan against Ganondorf in the other time, but this time around, these lyrics are truer.  Allies and rivals fight together for common glory in this world outside of Time, where this can happen… no deaths, no murders… all glory. 

 

_Saeve certando pugandoque…splendor cresit._

 

We shine ever brighter indeed. 

 

This matches’ fighters appear over the stadium.  Link ‘d Ordon taunts everyone by flexing with his sword.  Even from here in the stadium-seating, I can get a good look at his face and see his beast-eyes.  Samus materializes, looking as formidable as ever in her shiny armor.  Pit appears above the stage, his white wings and golden crown catching the light.  Lastly, there’s “my boy,” known as Toon Link to the crowds. 

 

The fight begins.  Ol’ stone-legged Link takes a dive off the platform into the carrier-system below, losing points as he ascends to get back in the game.  Pit is knocked off and is as flightless as ever, but is able to power his wings temporarily.  I bet the elder Link would love to have that power about now.  Oh-ho! What’s this?  Little Link has caught a Smash Ball and has caught Samus in a Triforce-Slash! 

 

Way to fight, Tiny! 

 

You will never know the extent of the pride I have for you nor how long I have rooted for you.  

 

Go, kid, go! 

 

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

**THE END.**

 


End file.
